


familiar arms

by kianne



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Dimension-Hopping Rose, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode AU: s03e08-09 Human Nature/Family of Blood, Episode: s03e08-09 Human Nature/Family of Blood, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fobwatched Doctor (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kianne/pseuds/kianne
Summary: “Doctor, it’s me, it’s Rose,” She said. He sucked in a breath between his teeth and the other girl's hands flew to cover her mouth.“But that’s not possible,” He said, eyes scrunching in that way that was so /Doctor/. “I’ve had dreams about- have we met before?” He asked, and he truly meant it.When Rose finds the Doctor he doesn't remember her.When he does it doesn't make things much easier.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor | John Smith/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 137
Kudos: 348





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is self indulgent af based on one (1) message I sent to a friend
> 
> in this Martha is the school nurse bc having her as a maid still would have had rather racist undertones with Rose now in the story, you'll see what I mean

The world fizzed out of existence around Rose and all the air was sucked from her lungs as she was catapulted through the void. When she landed she stumbled forwards, catching her hands on her knees and choking against a dizzying wave of nausea. She braced herself against it, more accustomed to it now than her first jumps where she would spend minutes retching before getting her bearings, and within moments was able to right herself again. She pulled the dimension cannon from around her neck and unclipped the key from it; it was warm to touch and almost felt like it was vibrating with energy. She took that as a good sign. She stowed the device away and hung the key back around her neck on its delicate chain.

She took in her surroundings cautiously, used by now to being flung directly into danger and having to scramble for safety. But she had landed in a quiet town, late morning by the looks of it. Something seemed not quite right though, even for a rural town, the shops all looked incredibly dated, and the street lamps appeared to be gas. Rose’s breath caught in her throat; the cannon had sent her to different planets before when it flung her across the dimensions, but never to a different time. That was of course, assuming this was earth. It could be anywhere and simply have aesthetic similarities to what she assumed was 1900s Earth. England, too, by the looks of it. She didn’t have the translation matrix in her head anymore, but those signs were definitely in english.

She heard a faint jangling sound, and moments later had to step back to avoid being hit by a woman on an old fashioned bicycle. She certainly looked human, and her clothes matched the time assumed time period. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the first time they’d hooked the TARDIS key up to the cannon appeared to be the first time she’d travelled in time as well as space and dimensions. She crossed her fingers subtly at her sides as she started off down the road. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was heading, but if the key had brought her here that must mean the TARDIS was nearby, and if the TARDIS was nearby-

A pang of nervous energy shot through her like it hadn’t done since the early days of her jumps. She’d grown so accustomed to them that although reaching the Doctor had been her constant goal, driving her forward through each day, she hadn’t felt the immediate anticipation of reaching him like this in a very long time. She assumed her usual strategy of look for trouble; if the Doctor was really here, that’s where he’d be. The village seemed so peaceful now, though she guessed that might play to her favour, any trouble would be hard to miss. Hopefully.

There was nothing of particular note through the town, just quiet shoppers getting on with their day. Something urged Rose to keep walking through the centre of town and down a road that led through crop fields. It could be a perception filter trying to distract her from the town, she thought, but it felt less like she was being driven away and more like she was being pulled towards.

The road was lined with fields, and in the distance she could see a run down looking barn. The type of place easily disregarded as old and abandoned and not worth looking at. Rose had the strangest urge to run to it. She restrained herself, brain questioning her gut, but the tug felt something stronger than instinct, so she followed it down the dusty field path towards the barn, senses on high alert. She held her breath as she approached the barn door. If there was something manipulating her senses there might be danger. She pushed the door to as quietly as she could, peering round it but poised on her toes ready to run or duck for cover. What she saw almost made her knees give out.

There, standing tall and ostentatious as ever, was the TARDIS. Her throat was suddenly thick, eyes burning slightly and her breaths coming in sharp gasps, on the edge of hysterical.

It was really here.

She stumbled forwards, feet making her decisions for her, and held up a shaky hand. She had sudden flashes of her hand passing right through the ship, like it would have the Doctor on that beach had he not stopped her, like it had done in countless dreams since, but her hand landed firm on solid wooden doors, and she let out an incredulous gasp of joy. The ship hummed beneath her fingers. Rose’s fingers were shaking so hard she fumbled with the key, having to make several attempts to slot it in the lock, but it turned with ease and the door swung open for her.

Tears really did fall then, streaming down her face silently as she stepped inside, breathing in the feel of home. The TARDIS hummed to life in her mind, her joy mingling with Rose’s own. It was intoxicating and overwhelming, and she braced a hand on the railing, the other coming up to wrap around her own middle in a mirror of the hug the TARDIS was pouring through her mind.

“Hello old girl. I missed you,” She said, voice watery.

“Doctor!” She called, louder this time. No response, not that she’d been expecting one. He never lingered long on a planet inside the ship, usually pulling them straight back into the void as soon as they were ready to go. She called his name a few more times but the halls of the TARDIS remained stubbornly quiet.

She stepped further into the ship, unsure of what to do now she was here. She’d never really planned this far ahead. Oh, she’d fantasised about reuniting with the Doctor a thousand different ways, a million, but had never planned for a version where she found the TARDIS Doctor-less. She didn’t want to abandon it lest he return and depart and she miss him, but sitting and waiting in the empty ship felt wrong, somehow.

“Can you tell me where he went?” Rose asked the ship, trailing her hand along the console fondly, not expecting an answer. To her surprise, the display panel flickered to life. Rose pulled the screen to face her, sending a wave of love and thankfulness toward the ship which she felt mirrored back at her. She fiddled with the dials until an image of a large stone building showed on the screen, along with a bunch of Galifreyan writing along the side that the ship, as usual, stubbornly refused to translate, despite her apparently helpful mood. Luckily there was a sign out the front of the building, which when Rose zoomed in on she could make out said Farringham school for boys.

“Thanks,” Rose said, and stretched up on her toes to stroke the time rotor quickly before heading back out the door. If the TARDIS was willing to give her the Doctor’s whereabouts, it must be a fairly safe bet she’d find him before he returned to the TARDIS and unwittingly abandoned her. Maybe the TARDIS would even refuse to take off if he did, though perhaps she was anthropomorphising the ship with a little too much liberality.

A lightness filled her whole body as she practically skipped up the road in the direction she assumed the school was. She felt like her lungs were filled with helium and were going to lift her right off the ground, and her face ached from smiling like a loon after so long being so stoick.

She had been walking less than ten minutes when she caught sight of the distinctive old English architecture in the distance, her breath caught in her throat and this time she was unable to restrain herself from breaking into a light jog, needing to be there as fast as she could be, relishing the familiar burn in her thighs. As she drew closer she could see smartly dressed figures milling around the grounds of the place. Young boys in their smart school uniforms, she realised. She stifled a giddy laugh, drawing to a brisk walk so as not to look too out of place.

It was a gorgeous day; late spring by the looks of the flowers around the grounds; hyacinths and daffodils bloomed near the trees and along the sides of the road. The union flag on the pole at the front of the building fluttered lazily in the slight breeze. The grass was still damp from morning dew and the gravel crunched under the boys feet.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she drew closer. A bell sounded in the distance and the boys scurried inside, leaving the courtyard quiet. Tentatively, Rose stepped up to the main front doors of the building, following the path the majority of boys had taken back inside. It was quiet inside too, but she could hear the distant sounds of voices echoing down the corridors. The place smelled like old wood, musky and heavy, and the floorboards creaked underfoot slightly, adding to her footsteps echoing loudly on the hardwood floor. She felt that odd rush of discomfort that came from walking empty school corridors, and she laughed internally at herself. She’d walked through planets on fire and had barely been phased but heaven forbid an empty school corridor.

She could hear footsteps growing closer, two pairs by the sound of it, and a woman’s voice, sounding frustrated and urgent. Rose deliberated, unsure of whether to dart for a hiding spot or try and play it off like she was meant to be here, maybe get some information out of them - say, seen any alien activity around here lately you could point me in the direction of? Before she could make her mind up though, the man replied to the woman, she didn’t catch his words but his voice- it couldn’t be. Her breath caught in her throat and her feet rooted to the floor as the pair rounded the corner and-

There he was.

Time stood still between them, and Rose stood frozen in place, unable to look away from him or even breathe.

His gaze flicked up to her and he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyebrows drew together, something unreadable flickering in his expression, incredulousness, recognition, and an overwhelming look of confusion, clouding his features.

“Doctor,” She breathed out, still frozen in place. But he didn’t make any move towards her, and past that flicker of recognition she’d seen in his eyes, there was no grin, no running into her arms.

“Doctor,” She said again, feet coming unstuck from the floor to take a stunted step towards him.

“But you’re-“ He said softly.

“I’m back,” She said, “Doctor it’s me, I’m back.”

She saw the moment he caught himself, mentally shook himself down to catch back his bearings.

“Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew for a second there. You do look awfully like- but that’s impossible,” His polite smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he still looked somewhat like he’d just seen a ghost. His voice sounded off, words more clipped than usual, he sounded reigned in and restrained in a way Rose had never known him to be. She clenched her shaking hands into fists at her sides.

“Who are you?” The girl he was with said warily. Rose barely spared her a glance.

“Doctor, it’s me, what do you-“

“Why do you call me that?” He said, confusion colouring his tone. “I’m a professor, not a doctor.”

“How do you know that?” The girl said, ignoring his words.

Her phrasing was important Rose knew, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Doctor. Her Doctor, looking at her with confusion and trepidation, a far cry from the overwhelming joy she’d been expecting, or hoping for, at least.

“Doctor, it’s me, it’s Rose,” She said. He sucked in a breath between his teeth and the girls hands flew to cover her mouth.

“But that’s not possible,” He said, eyes scrunching in that way that was so _Doctor_. “I’ve had dreams about- have we met before?” He asked, and he truly meant it.

Panic clawed at Rose’s throat, threatening to swallow her whole. How could he not remember her, what was going on. Her mind raced a million miles a second. Maybe this wasn’t her universe after all, maybe this was some parallel universe, a parallel Doctor who sensed he knew her in some capacity but it wasn’t really him. He’d never been there before - she’d been to tens of parallel universes by now, and the Doctor had stubbornly remained in existence only in her universe - her original universe. The Time Lords, he’d explained once, only existed in this dimension. They could travel to the other dimensions, sure, but they were one of a kind. Still, big old multiverse, he could’ve been wrong, she could’ve fallen through a sliver of a crack into a dimension where they did exist. But - the TARDIS had recognised her, that had really been her TARDIS she was sure of it.

Before Rose could spiral too hard, the girl next to the Doctor spoke up again.

“Rose? Rose Tyler?”

The Doctor’s head whipped to her.

“You know her?” He asked, even more confused than before.

“I- god this was hardly in the instructions,” She said, more to herself than either of them. “John I need to speak to Rose. Alone please.”

“John?” Rose croaked, head spinning. “I’m not leaving him.” She didn’t know what was going on but like hell was she letting him out of her sight.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Martha said, then reconsidered her phrasing, “well, he’s going down the hall to his office, weren’t you?” She said pointedly, gesturing slightly with her hand.

“Martha would you tell me what on earth is going on?” He said.

“I will, I just need to speak to Rose here first. Rose?” She was desperately trying to convey something to Rose through her pointed look, but Rose was too overwhelmed to try and decipher it. “I promise he’s not leaving,” She said, softer this time. The Doctor’s head whipped between the two women, mouth agape slightly. Rose felt a little hysterical.

Martha stared at her expectantly, and she finally conceded. It took all her willpower to turn her back on the Doctor, leaving him looking stunned in the hallway as she followed Martha into an empty classroom.

“You’re Rose Tyler?” Martha said the moment the door clicked shut behind them.

“Who are you? How d’you know my name?” Rose said uncertainly.

“You travelled with the Doctor, right?”

Something in Rose deflated slightly at the acknowledgement of the Doctor. Whatever was going on, at least the Doctor existed here.

“Who are you?”

“My name’s Martha Jones, and I- I travel with him, at the moment.”

“What’s happened to him? Why doesn’t he know me, what’s going on?”

“He’s human,” She blurted out. Rose’s jaw nearly hit the floor, she started to protest but Martha held up a hand. “He used this thing, this chameleon arch, to change himself. Rewrote his entire biology to make himself human. He was being hunted by this family, they feed on Time Lords see, it was the only way they wouldn’t detect him. But if you found him-“ She broke off, suddenly looking very worried.

“Oh I wasn’t looking for him- well I was, but I was honing in on the TARDIS, not him,” She interjected quickly, pulling out her key to demonstrate. “She told me how to find him.”

“She?”

“The TARDIS,”

“She’s never spoken to me,” Martha grumbled. Rose laughed, it felt odd, she’d not done much of that lately.

“We kind of, uh, bonded? A while back. Took the life force of the TARDIS into myself to destroy the daleks, I think she must’ve left a little piece of her in me after though. I’ve been able to kind of… feel her, ever since.”

“Wow, he said you were good but,” Martha said, and though she was clearly impressed there was just the slightest tint of sadness, and perhaps jealousy, to her voice that Rose chose not to dwell on.

“Is he… okay, though?” Rose asked awkwardly, unsure of how to even begin to wrap her head around what was going on. Out of all the bizarre situations she’d imagined landing herself in with the Doctor when she finally found him, him having magically turned himself human had certainly not graced that list.

“He’s safe,” Martha said, before pausing to reconsider, “vaguely. As much as the Doctor ever is safe,”

“Right, so not at all then?” Rose said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips in spite of herself. Martha’s responding smile was warm and friendly.

“He’s okay though, I think. Losing you- I don’t think he’s been coping incredibly well. But he’s mister I’m always alright so it’s hard to tell, really,”

“When will he be back?” Rose said, her voice suddenly a lot smaller. “He’s gonna be okay, right? He’s gonna get back to normal?”

“When he changed he stored his consciousness in a fob watch, when he opens it he’ll change back,”

“But I’m guessing there’s a reason he can’t do that right now?”

“This family that’s hunting him, he called them mayflies. Without a new Timelord to feed on they’ll last three months. When he knows they’re gone he can change back.”

Rose bit her lip and looked down. Three months without the Doctor but with a man who didn’t know her living inside his body. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle that.

“He remembered you,” Martha said suddenly. “The TARDIS made a whole backstory for him, wiped everything else from his mind. But he’s been having these dreams, keeps a diary of them. You’re all through it, keeps drawing you. He doesn’t know who you are but he knows you’re important to him.”

Rose nodded, not trusting her voice to speak right now. Martha watched her intently, clearly struggling to try and find the right words to say, but Rose spoke first.

“So three months, yeah?”

“Oh, no we’ve been here just over two months, only a few weeks left probably.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. A few weeks she could manage. She could be patient.

“So… human Doctor? What’s that like?” Rose said, and the tension between them didn’t quite break but definitely softened with Marthas nervous laugh.

“Weird. Bloody weird. It’s like seeing a work mate out of uniform and all dressed up and they’ve got a totally different personality and it just completely throws you. It’s still him, deep down, but on the surface he’s some poncy professor from 1913 who apparently doesn’t see anything wrong with caning boys who misbehave.”

“Oh I’m going to kill him,” Rose said, and Martha laughed again.

Rose found she liked Martha, she clearly cared about the Doctor, but was strong and capable in her own right too. She was glad he’d had someone, and the initial wave of jealousy she’d felt at having been replaced ebbed away when she thought about how much he clearly needed her as a friend.

Rose felt much more at ease when they left the classroom. They were going to head back to the TARDIS to get her some period appropriate clothes and hope it could create a backstory for her so she could stay here close to the Doctor rather than hiding away on the ship for the next few weeks. Rose was relieved Martha understood her need to be near the Doctor without her having to explain.

They’d barely made it to the front door when Rose heard her name called behind her. She spun to find the Doctor stood in the doorway of the office he’d disappeared into earlier, looking surprised and gleeful.

“You’re here!” He said. Rose opened her mouth dumbly, heart souring at the clear recognition in his eyes. He bounded forwards and scooped her into his arms. She gasped and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him for dear life, trying to ignore the wetness that had suddenly sprung to her eyes. She hadn’t been prepared for how like home his arms would feel when she finally returned to them.

Too soon he was pulling back, and she had no choice but to let him go.

“You’re early,” He said, “I thought you weren’t going to be arriving until the end of the week!”

“What?” Rose asked, and her heart sunk.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today? Were you trying to surprise me?” He asked happily. He took her hand in his and turned to Martha.

“Rose, this is Martha, the school nurse. Martha, this is my wife, Rose. ”

Rose’s stomach plummeted, and it was only Martha’s quick recovery that stopped her from outright gaping at the man.

“Lovely to meet you, Rose. I’ve heard so much about you,” She said with a warm smile and a pointed look that said play along.

“Yeah, uh, likewise,” Rose said, completely unconvincingly. The Doctor didn’t seem to notice, and beamed down at her. Looking at that bright smile, she couldn’t help but return it just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's my story I'll jam as many reunions into it as I like, as soon as I work out the logistics of reunion #3 it's all over for you hoes 
> 
> anyway please leave a review if you liked it! my country just got put on lockdown so things are a little weird right now but I have the next chapter or so already written so once they're edited they should be up


	2. Chapter 2

Rose had only agreed to leave the Doctor again to go with Martha to the TARDIS because he’d had a lesson to teach and had insisted she go and get settled in, leaving her without much choice. The walk back to the TARDIS felt much longer now it was no longer fuelled by adrenaline. Martha seemed to sense Rose really just wanted to be alone with her thoughts so hadn’t been pressing her with questions, and the silence had been strangely amicable, which was a relief. No one needed a repeat of her first impressions with Sarah Jane. 

“So the TARDIS made me a backstory while we were talking, and put it in his head?”

“Seems so, it must have decided with his reaction when he saw you that was the safest thing to do,” 

“But why his wife?”

Martha shot her a look at that, eyebrow raised and mirth in her eyes. 

“No but, we weren’t like that. I don’t know what we were like but it wasn’t that,” 

“He told me you were together,” Martha said carefully, after a moments quiet. 

“What?”

“When I came aboard the first time, I was asked him where everyone else was, great big ship flying around the universe on his own. He said you’d been with him recently, said you’d been together,” 

Rose was quiet for a long while, chewing on her lip and trying not to think of all the different interpretations ’together’ could have for a 900 year old alien. 

“The TARDIS made me the school nurse,”Martha said, pulling Rose out of her thoughts, “I’m training to be a doctor back home, yeah, I know,” She laughed at Rose’s expression, “it’s mad. But now I can be useful, and I can keep an eye on him. The TARDIS clearly has opinions on where you belong,” She treated Rose to another knowing look. 

“This is mad, this is all mad,” Rose said finally, and all it took was one look at Martha and they were laughing. It felt good to laugh, made her feel light in a way she hadn’t in months. She could survive these next few weeks if she had Martha at her side, she decided, and she linked arms with her as they strolled down the dirt path towards the barn. 

“We are gonna have words!” Rose declared, pointing a finger at the time rotor when they stepped inside the TARDIS. The ship wheezed slightly in response, lights growing a little brighter. She glared at the ship good-naturedly and stamped off down a corridor. 

“Won’t be a minute,” She called over her shoulder to Martha, who sidled up to the console to begin fiddling with dials on the monitor. 

Martha practically knew the message the Doctor had left her off by heart by now, she’d watched it so many times over the last two months. It felt comforting though, to vent her frustrations at the image of him on the screen rather than into an empty room. 

She flicked through the instructions, desperately hoping there was some message she’d somehow missed on what to do in a situation anything even close to this. She hit the console frustratedly. 

“Out of all the things to happen of course this would be the one you never even considered giving me help for!” She cried, then took a deep breath. “I guess you never let yourself even hope it could happen, but what are we supposed to do now? What’s Rose meant to do? This isn’t exactly what she’d been hoping for when she shot herself through dimensions.”

Martha slumped back into the jump seat, letting the video play through with its unhelpful words. 

“Don’t let me eat a pear, I hate pears,” The video-Doctor said, and Martha heard a small gasp from behind her. 

“You ready?” Martha asked, turning to face Rose behind her, but paused when she realised Rose’s eyes were shining and her hand was clutched to her mouth. She followed her gaze back over her shoulder and realised what she was seeing. 

“Sorry,” Rose said, not dragging her eyes away from the screen, “just- it’s him, it’s really him. I’ve not heard his voice in so long.”

She took a few steps forwards and stretched her hand out shakily to the monitor as if going to stroke the image of his face before awkwardly retracting it and letting it fall to her side. 

“It won’t be long,” Martha said softly, gently taking the leather suitcase from Rose’s hand. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. It’s just a little overwhelming, you know?” She laughed weakly and Martha smiled. 

“I can give you a minute, if you want?”

“No, I’m fine,” Rose said and sniffed hard, rolling her shoulders back and her persona shifted just slightly. It took Martha a second to catch up, but when she did, she understood a little bit more about why she fit so well with the Doctor. Her hair was pinned a little sloppily, her makeup was a little too modern, and her accent was a little too harsh for her to fit in quite right with the time period, but the way she carried herself told Martha that wouldn’t be an issue for a moment, and the twinkle in her eye when she glanced back at the screen just briefly before smoothing down her skirt and heading for the door made her sure this was exactly where she needed to be. More so, perhaps, than Martha had ever felt with a man mourning his- whatever Rose had been to him. 

—

Rose felt like she was intruding. The Doctor- John Smith’s room was large, almost a studio flat really, with dark wood paneling along the walls. It was cluttered and lived in but in an organised sort of way, there were nicknacks and books perched on surfaces, a pair of shoes tucked neatly under the bed, a forgotten teacup on the windowsill. It was surreal trying to piece together an image of the life of a man who didn’t exist, from a room he very clearly did exist in. 

Martha hadn’t stuck around after showing Rose to the room. She’d claimed she had duties she was missing, but Rose suspected she had sensed she wanted to be alone for a while to adjust, and she was glad of it. She supposed she should unpack, but when she opened the wardrobe to hang her clothes it felt all too real and intimate somehow, so she closed the doors tight and pushed that task to later. 

She wasn’t, however, adverse to a little snooping, and entertained herself for a while familiarising herself with the room and his belongings. A worn copy of The Secret Garden sat on the arm of a tired looking leather sofa, a pair of spectacles acting as a makeshift bookmark. Rose laughed at the wire rimmed glasses, not exactly the sexy specs, rather too teacher-ish. She tried to picture the Doctor wearing these and teaching a class full of children, but was hit by a wave of sadness as the reality of her situation began to sink in just a little further. Weeks, she would have to wait, looking at a man who wore his face but called her his wife. She wasn’t sure what that would do to her. 

She dropped the book back onto the sofa, careful to place the specs back within its pages, and stood to pace the room, restless energy making her feel somewhat like a caged animal in this room already. She moved over to the mantlepiece, though the fire wasn’t lit there were more little objects for her to fit into her picture of John Smith. A postcard with an ink drawing of a little village, a leather-bound notebook well worn at the edges, and something else, half hidden behind a book. The small silver object caught Rose’s attention oddly intensely, like it was of some huge importance rather than some dull miscellaneous object forgotten on a shelf. 

With shaking fingers, she picked the object up, and was half surprised that nothing remarkable happened. It was warm to touch, she realised, as if it had been sat in the sun all morning, which made no sense as the mantlepiece was too far from a window to be caught in direct sunlight. She flipped it over in her hand; it was a pocket watch. But that wasn’t what made Rose’s heart flip; it was covered in engravings, that to the average eye might look pretty but unimportant, but to Rose it was like a lifeline in the ocean. Circular Galifreyan. 

She couldn’t read it of course, the TARDIS never translated Galifreyan for her, and she wasn’t even sure the translation circuits would be working with the Doctor in human form, but she knew immediately that this was him. This was the watch the Doctor’s very being was hidden away inside. She clutched it tight in her hands and held it to her chest for a moment, as if she could hug him through the watch, and maybe she imagined the brief wisp of longing in her mind in return. 

Suddenly the floorboard behind her creaked and she jumped so hard she almost dropped the watch. She whirled around, ready to take off running, and came face to face with John Smith. 

“Sorry,” He said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s okay. I just, didn’t hear you come in is all,” Rose said and her chest ached. He was right there, her Doctor, and he didn’t have a clue. His hair was neater than usual, but his cheeks freckly as ever, and his expression so soft she had to look away. She turned away from him under the guise of placing the watch back on the mantlepiece, half covered by the book again so it wouldn’t catch his eye. It felt odd to be hiding such a precious object in such plain sight right in front of this man, but he hardly seemed to notice her doing it. She supposed it must have a perception filter on it so he would ignore it. 

“I’ve missed you,” His voice was low and much closer than before. Still, Rose didn’t look up, feigning interest in the books stacked on the mantle, until she felt his hand come to rest lightly on her waist. Finally, she brought her eyes up to meet his, breath bated. 

“Are you feeling alright, love?” He asked, ducking his head ever so slightly to try and get a better look at her. “You look a bit pale.”

“Just a little tired from travelling is all,” She said, forcing a smile. It wasn’t a lie; firing yourself across dimensions was tiring. And the day had been more than a little emotionally draining. She hadn’t noticed till now just how heavy her body felt, and felt a sudden longing for her bed back in the TARDIS. 

John leaned forwards and kissed her forehead softly, sending Rose’s stomach into furious cartwheels. He stroked his thumb against her side where his hand still rested against her hip. 

“Why don’t you go sit by the window, I’ll make you some tea and hang your clothes for you.” 

She obliged and plopped down on the sofa by the window. She tried to sit like a proper lady for a minute, before deciding screw it, if John was her husband then she should be allowed to relax around him, so she toed off her shoes and brought her feet up onto the seat to curl into the cushions properly. A minute later he handed her a delicate teacup and she inhaled the rich smell of the loose leaf tea, the tension finally starting to seep out of her shoulders. 

John got to work quietly unpacking her bag and hanging her dresses in the wardrobe alongside his jackets, no sign of the earlier hesitation Rose had felt about such a domestic task. She hid her smile with her teacup, remembering her first Doctor’s aversion to domesticity, and this Doctor’s weak pretence at the same, despite how easily he slipped into it around her. 

He seemed to sense she was too tired for conversation so didn’t pester her with questions, instead humming a quiet melody to himself. When Rose closed her eyes she could almost imagine it was the Doctor humming away as he tinkered with something in his workshop, but it made her eyes prick slightly so she opened them and blinked a few times, electing to watch out the window instead. 

When he was finished with his task he stowed her case away neatly on top of the wardrobe alongside his own, and seated himself next to Rose on the sofa with his own teacup. Instinctively he raised his arm for her, and without having to think about it Rose snuggled into his side. She wondered if it was muscle memory ingrained into his body, despite every cell having been rewritten. This body had practically been born with the instinct to position himself best to let Rose cuddle up to him at all times, her having apparently trained it into his former body. He tended to stand so close to her she only had to lean her shoulder back slightly and it would bump into his chest, and any time she entered the library when he was already there he’d immediately raise his arm for her to slip under without even looking up from his book, like he barely registered he did it. It had made her heart swell every time, and left her shoulders feeling cold and bereft when they were left with no Timelord arm weighing them down suddenly. 

He’d imprinted on her somewhat, he’d explained back in those early days when she still hadn’t been quite sure what to make of him. That’s why he’d turned out younger with an estuary accent, why he was so sexy, he’d joked. She’d batted at his chest and told him to leave off but hadn’t been able to hide her grin quite quickly enough. She liked the thought of that, this version of him being for her in some small way. 

She noticed she was nodding off somewhat when she heard a page turn and realised John had picked up a book while her eyes had been closed. He apparently felt her wake against his neck as he jostled his shoulder gently to wake her further. 

“Come on you, time to get to bed,” He said into her hair, then placed a kiss to the crown of her head. She wanted to groan and snuggle into him further, maybe fling an arm across his chest and refuse to move, but she reminded herself that this wasn’t her Doctor, this was some other man whom she was only pretending to know, so she grumbled something unintelligible and dragged herself upright, stretching slightly. He laughed at her sleepiness and set his book aside, standing and offering his hand to help her up. 

She gathered her sleep things and headed for the ensuite to get ready for bed, hoping he wouldn’t find it odd his wife avoided undressing in front of him, but if he noticed anything odd he didn’t let on when she reemerged and he brushed past her to take his turn, already in his pyjamas. She slipped into the cold sheets and shivered slightly, curling into herself for warmth. A minute later, the mattress dipped behind her and a warm arm snaked around her waist. Warmer than the Doctor was, a stark reminder that this wasn’t him, but not enough to convince Rose not to snuggle back against his chest. He smelt different, the subtle earthy tones she’d come to recognise as TARDIS coral were absent to be replaced by a fragrant soap, but underneath it he still smelled like him, and she fell asleep almost able to pretend she was in the Doctor’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hows everyone getting on in lockdown lmao, I'm writing v slowly but I guess it's faster than when I work full time so whos complaining tbh
> 
> leave a review if u liked it (or if u didnt idc), it rly helps with the motivation <3


	3. Chapter 3

She awoke naturally for the first time since, well, since she’d been on the TARDIS. No blaring alarm and back off to Torchwood with a protein shake after five hours sleep and a quick shower. It was a strange sensation after so long, like pulling herself from the depths of the ocean slowly. She was warm, and comfortable, shins pressed up against warm legs, an arm looped lazily around her waist. But a sense of unease was already creeping its way into her chest, like smoke under a door from a burning room. 

She opened her eyes, and almost wished she hadn’t, because when they were she was forced face to face with freckled skin and slack jaw and delicate eyelashes spanning cheeks of a man who wasn’t her Doctor. It finally sank in then, in the quiet stillness of John Smith’s bed, his breath puffing gently over her cheek, that she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do, and that even if it wasn’t quite what she’d been expecting, she was here for good now. She’d said goodbye to her mum for the last time. The canon still worked, sure, but it would be too risky to attempt another jump back and forth; the connection was too unstable and she might never find the Doctor a second time in this infinite universe. 

A sudden wave of guilt and grief ballooned in her chest until it threatened to choke her at the thought of her mum alone in the parallel dimension. But she reminded herself, as she had a thousand times before, that she had her dad now, and she had made this decision a long time ago, even got her mum’s blessing for it after she saw how important it was to her. She’d had her blessing ever since the game station, really, when she’d helped Rose get back to the Doctor even though there was a good chance she’d die in doing so. Her wonderful mum and that big yellow truck. 

She felt the Doctor stir slightly next to her, and had to remind herself once again that this wasn’t him. That thought only lasted a split second before amber eyes batted open sleepily, and creased around the corners in a sleepy smile. 

“G’morning,” He rumbled, blinking slowly in the morning light, face half smushed into his pillow. 

“Hello,” She said, unable to keep a smile from spreading across her lips, unease in her chest abating ever so slightly. 

“Have you been awake long?”

“No.” 

He was truly beautiful, rumpled from sleep and utterly unguarded. It felt so intimate lying beside him, only a few thin layers of fabric between them so she could feel his sleep warmed skin radiating where their legs brushed together. The sheets rustled slightly as he brought his hand up to lightly trace her cheek with the backs of his fingers. It felt selfish, closing her eyes to savour the sensation and pretend it was the Doctor touching her this way and not John Smith, but she did it anyway. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He breathed. “I’ve missed you while I’ve been here. 

“An’ I’ve missed you,” She murmured back with a depth to her honesty he couldn’t possibly understand. There was something behind his eyes for just a moment though, a flicker of hopelessness and longing that was gone before he could even register it himself. 

She was overwhelmed suddenly, and she rolled away from him before he could say anything more. Her chest ached too much to be able to bare being so close to the man who wore the Doctor’s face but couldn’t possibly fill that role. Perhaps that was selfish of her, but after so long she’d learned to shield herself for her own protection. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom first,” She said. She heard John roll onto his back behind her but didn’t turn round as she made a beeline for the ensuite. 

Once she was inside she leaned over the sink with her eyes squeezed shut taking steadying breaths. It was only a few weeks, she reminded herself. She’d lasted a year not even knowing if seeing the Doctor again was a possibility, now she knew that in just a few short weeks they would be reunited. She could handle this. 

She washed up quickly and pinned her hair back into yesterdays style, cursing and having to start it all over again twice. By the time she was finished she felt a lot calmer and ready to face the day, if still a little nervous to face John Smith again. 

She couldn’t avoid him over breakfast though, and found herself cataloging his every movement and comparing him to the Doctor. It wasn’t fair on him, she knew, and she was only torturing herself, but he carefully scooped his boiled egg out with a spoon and ate it rather than messily dunking toast soldiers in it, and never spoke with his mouth full. He hadn’t mussed his hair up once since he’d left the bathroom after her, and seemed content to sit still in his chair rather than bounce around it like it was just barely managing to contain him long enough to eat. 

“And one of my boys, Tim Latimer, I can’t quite work out how to get through to him, he’s the brightest in the class but he seems to be holding himself back- you’re staring at me,” John said, snapping Rose out of her thoughts. 

“What? No, I was just… thinking. Sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry. I worry I’ve rather pulled you away from your life. I don’t want you to be unhappy here,” His eyes searched her face as if he could find the answers he needed there. She smiled and placed her hand over his. 

“I’m glad to be here with you. You clearly care for these boys a lot; this is where you’re meant to be.” He smiled at her warmly, and flipped his hand over to take hers and squeeze it. 

“I best be off, must be a good example to the boys,” He said, and withdrew his hand. Rose felt oddly bereft without it. 

He grabbed his coat and put one arm through it and Rose leapt up to pull it round for the other arm and tug it up onto his shoulders for him. Old habits die hard, apparently. He grabbed his mortarboard hat from the cluttered desk and placed it on his head. 

“Do they really make you wear that thing?” She laughed. 

“Oh yes!”

She snickered and straightened it for him before moving to straighten his bow tie; brown and spotted and reminiscent of the Doctor’s usual ties. He was watching her intently through his lashes, chin ducked down, and Rose thought briefly of how adorable he looked when smitten, and John Smith was clearly very smitten with her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

“Have a good day,” She said, blinking a few times and attempting to gather herself together, unsure of what to do with herself. 

“You too,” His voice was soft and happy, “I want to hear all about your adventures of the town when I get back.” 

She finally looked up to lock eyes with him, and couldn’t help but smile at the warmth she found there. Before she had time to think, he ducked forwards and kissed her. The press of his lips was soft and only lasted a moment, but it was utterly dizzying. Rose’s heart flipped and butterflies erupted in her stomach. She forgot how to breathe for a second and bit her lip to contain whatever expression it was that was trying to overcome her face that certainly was not the reaction a wife would have to her husband kissing her goodbye as he did every morning. 

She wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to laugh hysterically or push him away, or drag him back in for more. She settled for smoothing his jacket one last time, head bowed in an attempt to conceal her scarlet cheeks, and gave him a light shove towards the door. He didn’t seem to notice her odd behaviour, and gave her one last smile before grabbing a stack of books and heading out, leaving Rose alone in his room, feeling rather out of breath all of a sudden.


	4. Chapter 4

“He kissed me!” Rose exclaimed, bursting into Martha’s nurse’s office. 

“I thought you might get up to more than that last night, big reunion and all,” Martha said, setting her work down and smiling in a way that suggested she really didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. 

“No, shut up. We’re not like that, and even if we were, that’s not him is it? Not really,” Rose gestured over her shoulder vaguely in the direction of John’s classroom. 

“Still though,” Martha was definitely laughing at her, but it was good natured. 

“But he kissed me,” She said, beginning to pace up and down the small office. “He’s not done that before, well once, but- what am I meant to do with that?” She knew she was on the verge of hysterical, but Martha’s grin stopped her from spiralling too hard. 

“Oh sit down, would you?” Martha said, gesturing to a the chair across from her. “And here, if you want to be useful you can roll and sort these bandages.”

Rose deflated a little and sat, accepting the basket of bandages thrust at her while Martha busied pouring her a second cup of tea from the pot already steaming on the desk. 

“So, tell me what happened.” 

Rose sighed. 

“Well he was leaving for work, and he…kissed me,”

“That’s it? You made it sound like the world was ending! Was it a long kiss?”

“No, more of a peck really,” She conceded. Martha laughed. 

“You do realise you’re his wife, right?”

“I’m not really though, am I?”

“He doesn’t know that!”

Rose slumped back in her seat and sighed. It had been an overreaction really. But still, it was the intent behind the kiss. Was he going to expect more from her? She couldn’t just avoid him, he’d find it strange, but if the Doctor remembered any of this when he came back she couldn’t exactly take advantage of him like this. And even if he didn’t remember, she would. This was all far, far too much for her. She explained as much to Martha over their tea, and she nodded along sympathetically. 

“What if it is still him though?” Martha asked after a long period of quiet. 

“What?”

“What if this is less like him being a completely different person in the same body, and more just- I dunno. Amnesia? He didn’t really explain the process to me, didn’t have the time, but sometimes when he talks it still feels like it’s him. And I think sometimes he knows he’s not quite right like this.”

“How d’you mean?”

“It’s like he’s left the kettle on,” Martha said after a moments careful thought, “like he knows he has something to get back to, but he can’t remember what.”

Rose sighed and rested her chin in her hand, puffing out her cheeks and going to fiddle with her hoop earring, only to find it missing because of course it was 1913 and hoop earrings weren’t exactly in fashion, so she tugged on her earlobe for a second instead. She realised suddenly that was a habit the Doctor had, and wondered faintly if that was another thing he’d picked up from her. 

“The way he explained it though, he said he’d have enough residual consciousness to let me in. The TARDIS sorted the backstories for everything but it just worked around how he already perceives us. It didn’t give him new emotions or anything. So it can’t have made him feel any differently about you. This is him, Rose,”

“No, can’t be,” Rose dismissed with a shake of her head, “he’s just acting like this because he thinks I’m his wife and that’s how you’re supposed to treat your wife.”

Martha levelled Rose with a look, and Rose wanted to bury her face in her hands. This was all just a bit too overwhelming, and she’d expected overwhelming when she finally found her way back, but not this. Martha patted her arm sympathetically, but hid a smile in her mug. Rose glared at her faintly. 

“Hey, at least he doesn’t just see you as a colleague,” Martha said, gesturing to the room. It was a joke, but there was a wistfulness behind it. Rose immediately sobered. 

“I think he probably sees you as an equal,” She said, “colleague is just the context, that’s backstory. He respects you.”

“You think?” Martha asked, still somewhat uncertain but her eyes were lit up. 

“Absolutely.”

Martha grinned for a moment before setting her mug down and eyeing Rose in a way she wasn’t sure she liked. 

“You said before; you said the Doctor’s kissed you before now,” 

“No I didn’t,” Rose stammered wholly unconvincingly, cheeks immediately flushing scarlet.

“You did,” Martha singsonged. “Go on, I want deets.” 

“It’s kind of a long story,” She protested weakly. Martha just quirked an eyebrow and Rose sighed, resigned to her fate. “So we were facing down the daleks, right? Big deadly pepper pot things-” 

“I’ve met them,” Martha nodded. 

“But- but you can’t have done. They're all trapped in the void!”

“The Doctor said something along those lines, yeah. This was the cult of Skaro though, they were hidden away in time, I think. Anyway that’s not important, you were saying,” She prompted. Rose swallowed uneasily, not wanting to think about the possibility of more daleks out there. Nothing should have been able to escape the void. 

“Well he- he sent me home. He thought the only way to stop them was to wipe everything out with this delta wave. Would’ve killed me too so he tricked me into the TARDIS and sent me home. Except I wasn’t just gonna let him die on his own thousands of years in the future. So I uh, ripped open the control panel with a tow truck and looked into the heart of the TARDIS. I absorbed it into me and became, well basically this goddess. Bad Wolf, I called myself. Scattered the name through my time stream as clues so I’d find my way back to him. I wiped out all of the daleks, I don’t really remember most of it to be honest, it was too much, I just remember needing him to be safe. But it was burning me up. No ones ever meant to hold the heart of the TARDIS inside of them, it was gonna kill me. So he took it out of me into himself by kissing me, that’s all it was.”

“That’s all it was? You became a goddess to save him and you say that’s all it was? I’m starting to think you’re as mad as him!” 

“No you know what I mean though! It wasn’t a romantic kiss, he was just doing it to save my life,” 

“And you’re telling me there was absolutely no other way he could have saved you? It didn’t even feel a little bit romantic?” Rose squirmed under Martha’s knowing look and bit her lip. 

“That’s what I thought,” Martha sipped her tea, raising her eyebrows at Rose who couldn’t help but laugh.

“It doesn’t matter though because either way that’s not him right now, and I can’t have him waking up and remembering it all and us having to go back to normal anyway, or him not remember but I do and have to act like nothing happened!” 

“It’s only a few weeks, reckon you can avoid sleeping with him for a few weeks if you’re that against it.” 

Rose dropped her head into her arms. 

Rose spent the rest of the day helping Martha in the nurse’s office; she didn’t have much else to do so figured she may as well be useful. Martha took it upon herself to teach Rose about first aid in the 1910s, while complaining about the state of hygiene and equipment she was expected to work with. They traded traveling stories, and then stories of back home, and found they got on rather well. Rose would never say she missed out, traveling with the Doctor, but having some actual human company whom she managed to have things in common with was rather a breath of fresh air. 

When she heard the final bell of the school day ring Rose headed back to John’s room, calling a final “shut up,” over her shoulder at the look she knew Martha had on her face, and heard her responding laugh as the door closed behind her. 

Her stomach fluttered with nervous energy the whole short walk back, and she realised she had honest to god butterflies for the first time since she didn’t know when. It was bizarre, she’d known the Doctor what felt like her whole life, all the life that had mattered at any rate, even if it had only been a few years; but this felt like something completely new. It was almost like he’d regenerated all over again, except instead of his body changing it was his mind. Her palms were slightly sweaty by the time she reached his door, and she wiped them nervously on her skirt. 

She paused awkwardly outside the door, unsure if she should knock or not. It was technically her room too, but she still felt like she’d be intruding if she just burst in without warning. He could be changing, or just not like being walked in on, she barely knew the man, she didn’t know what his reaction would be! But before she could work herself up too much, the door swung open and she was face to face with John Smith. 

“Oh! There you are!” He said brightly. “I was just going to come out to see if I could find you.” He stepped forwards and leant in. Rose had a mini heart attack but all he did was kiss her on the cheek, still grinning when he stepped back. 

“I was just down helping Martha,” She said, only stammering a little.

“First name basis?” He teased over his shoulder as he retreated back into the room. Rose followed him in and shut the door behind her, feeling rather like she was sealing herself in with him. 

“We get on rather well,” She assured him, and he beamed. 

“Making friends already, that’s my Rose.” She grinned despite herself. John clearly had some similarities to the Doctor. He always teased her for her domestic approach, but she could always tell he loved it deep down. 

“I was thinking we could go for a stroll into town?” John suggested. “I could show you the sights? It’s not as busy as London of course, but it is peaceful and very pretty.” He looked at her expectantly, his eyes shining with hopefulness. Rose couldn’t help but warm to him, he had no chance, really. 

“That sounds lovely.”

“Right you are then!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note on Martha’s characterisation in this story - in the original episode a lot of her characterisation was based around her pining for the Doctor but I rly have no interest in writing a story pitting her and Rose against each other w/ jealousy on both sides so I’m basing Martha’s characterisation more off journeys end where she was genuinely happy he’d found her again, and her Torchwood eps where she was a lil gossip, which was a side we didn’t really get to see when it was just her and the Doctor lmao. I hope I manage to still capture her well and do her justice even without her being the main character in a story where she originally was. 
> 
> this was quite a martha heavy chapter but next one should be more john heavy. I'm writing reasonably fast bc lockdown so it shouldn't be too long a wait, though every time I say that it ends up being ages lmfao so don’t hold your breath too hard


	5. Chapter 5

The late afternoon sun still shone warmly but the breeze was chilly so John and Rose had donned woollen coats, and him a hat. The hand in Rose’s should have felt foreign, she tried to make it so in her mind, running far too warm to feel familiar. But the long fingers that slotted together with hers just so, stubbornly refused to feel like anything but home, and it was a short lived battle. 

The Doctor had never been one for comfortable silence while walking anywhere, and neither, it seemed, was John. He was stiller than the Doctor; not as animated as he talked, but he talked nonetheless. He talked about the boys he taught and his coworkers, the best place to sit and read on campus, and which shopkeepers he favoured. He was enthusiastic to make sure Rose was up to date on everything she needed to know about life in this little village, and didn’t feel like she’d missed out. It left her feeling quite the opposite, but hearing him talk so passionately almost made up for it. 

She wasn’t surprised to hear Martha’s name in the mix more often than others, and while the feeling in her stomach at that wasn’t exactly jealousy, it wasn’t completely pleasant. She was reassured to know she’d managed to stick so close to his side, but it was a stark reminder that Rose hadn’t been able to be here for him. She reminded herself she was here now though, and clung to his side a little tighter, determined not to let herself mope and mourn rather than treasuring the time she had with him, whatever version of him. 

She tried not to interrupt his stories, wary of saying something that would give her away, but when he got onto a tale of a boy underperforming in class and being beaten by the other boys, she finally lost her temper. 

“But that kind of military discipline, they’re just boys! What good’s it gonna do ‘em, drilling emotion straight out of them?”

“You don’t think discipline is good for them?” He asked, genuinely curious if a little surprised. 

“Discipline maybe, but allowing children to beat another child ‘cause he’s not good enough? The John Smith I know wouldn’t stand for that,” She said, anger rising in her voice. 

Perhaps she was wrong though; she didn’t know John Smith after all. Maybe he really was this authoritarian sergeant type through and through. But he sighed, deflating a little and looking at the ground in shame. 

“I must say I agree with you there, but what was I to do, with the headmaster right there? I can’t show weakness anymore than the boys should.”

“Kindness isn’t weakness, standing up to injustice shows far more strength than standing aside to let it pass,” Rose said firmly. “An’ what’s that poor boy gonna learn from that? To be scared of his peers, not how to shoot any better. Not that kids should be learnin’ to shoot anyway!”

“Perhaps being away from you was bad for me,” John said, looking at her with marvel in his eyes, “promise not to leave my side again and I’ll promise to be better. Even if it means risking my job.” His voice was light and teasing now, and she bumped their shoulders together, the anger seeping out of her as quickly as it had come. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” She said, and her heart squeezed slightly in her chest. She’d promised him forever once before and had been snatched away from him, and now she was promising forever again, but to a version of him that would be gone in a few short weeks time. Life with the Doctor was many things, but fair often wasn’t one of them. 

“Good, I don’t think I shall be letting you out of my sights again for a long-” He trailed off, and she followed his line of vision to a piano dangling precariously from a rope being hoisted to a first floor window above a shop. 

Before she had time to process the mother walking with a pram straight for it, let alone the fraying rope, John had darted away from her, snatched the cricket ball from a nearby child, and thrown it. Rose expected it to hit the pram perhaps, to stall the mother, but instead it sailed through the air and hit some scaffolding poles propped outside the Ironmongers. They went crashing to the ground and hit a plank, which sent a brick flying to knock down a milk churn which clattered down in front of the pram, stopping the mother just before the rope holding up the piano snapped and it plummeted to the ground with a terrible crash. The peaceful air was suddenly full of noise; the screeching vibrations of the piano strings settling, the baby crying, a woman screaming, and the clamouring of voices as everyone tried to work out what had just happened, and ask the mother if she was okay. 

“How on earth did you-“

“I don’t know!” They were both breathless with exhilaration. They watched as the two workmen ran to the mother to give their apologies. 

“You incredible man,” Rose laughed, “you never cease to amaze me.”

“Clearly you’re my good luck charm,” John said, sounding confused at his own actions. No human should have been able to pull off such a feat. He shouldn’t even have been able to spot the rope fraying from how far away they were.

His human mind would be trying to rationalise his actions now, Rose thought, smiling as she remembered the many times the Doctor had ranted about the human ability to do that. No other species he’d come across yet had quite matched the human’s ability to wave off impossible things as whacky coincidences. That impulsive need to rationalise everything in one’s head not quite uniquely human, but their proficiency in it leaps and bounds ahead the rest, or so he claimed whenever a bit miffed at humanity in general. 

John hadn’t immediately run over to the mother as many others had, preferring to swan off in mystery as the Doctor did, apparently, but they were stopped by a distant call of “You there!” He spun on the spot to locate the shout and found the mother trotting over with her pram.

“Was that you? Who knocked over those poles?” She asked, somewhat out of breath. 

“I suppose,” John said, looking back to the scene distractedly like he was expecting to find someone else had actually stepped in to save the day. 

“You saved my life, and my baby’s, the baker’s boy saw you toss that ball, how can I ever thank you?”

“Oh it was nothing, really, just dumb luck,” He said.

“God bless you,” She said, and he smiled awkwardly back at her, giving her a little nod as he turned away, attempting to make a speedy escape, but Rose had other ideas. 

“Oh, he’s lovely,” She cooed, peering into the pram, “how old?”

“Eight weeks,” The mother beamed proudly. 

“He’s so precious!”

The Doctor had never been much of one for babies, tending to keep his distance whenever they encountered one, but John peered into the pram politely, rather than grimacing and eyeing the child warily. 

“What about you two? Do you have children?” She asked. 

“Oh, er-“ Rose said awkwardly, prepared to brush off yet another uncomfortable question about her relationship with the Doctor. But a hand wrapped warmly around her hip, and rather than the Doctor denying any relationship between them, or uncomfortably shuffling and pretending he hadn’t heard the question, John smiled down at her in a way that filled her stomach with butterflies. 

“Not yet.” 

There was so much weight behind those two little words, a whole life this mayfly of a man had planned out for them. Rose ached for him, because it wasn’t a life he could ever come close to in any incarnation. The way he was smiling down at her, so much hope and love in his eyes, was almost enough to make Rose wish he could stay. He felt almost more real, more tangible than the Doctor in that moment. A normal, linear life laid out before them like pomegranate seeds. It was tempting in a way Rose had never expected normalcy to feel again. 

She plastered on a fake smile, patted her hand against his chest briefly as a fond wife would do, and said goodbye to the woman, who thanked them again before strolling away with her baby. John didn’t seem to quite know what to do with himself, awkwardly shuffling on the spot despite the hand still on Rose’s hip. She rolled her eyes at him and shucked out of his grip, taking his hand instead. His energy seemed to shift, focussing inwards on her

“Quite the hero today,” Rose said, keeping her voice cheery. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what happened,” He insisted. She laughed lightly and tugged him onwards. 

The grocer’s bell tinkled cheerily as they stepped through the door, and Rose tried to stop herself gaping at the quaint little shop. Alien planets were always fun, but there was something about seeing history you’d learnt about at school in front of your own eyes that was incredibly surreal. John grabbed a newspaper from the stand while Rose browsed the produce curiously. 

“Are you that one that saved that baby, then?” The shopkeep asked. He was a portly man in a suit with a thick, groomed moustache. Rose thought he looked somewhat like a teddybear. 

“Blimey, news travels fast around here,” John said, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he placed a newspaper on the counter by the till to search his pockets for his wallet. 

“Ah you’re one of them city folk aren’t ya? Can’t keep no secrets in a small town such as this,” He said. His tone was cheery, but Rose wasn’t sure she liked his words. It had become her nature to mistrust anyone prying for information in her time in the other dimension. John didn’t seem to notice however, and laughed politely. 

“I’m not sure I want to be known as the village hero. That was merely a stroke of luck, I shan’t think I’ll be making a repeat show.” 

“Right you are, sir. That’ll be a penny.”

Rose glared back at the shop as they stepped outside, taking John’s hand somewhat possessively. 

“I’ve been here three days and you’re already talk of the town,” She griped. 

“I’m sure that’ll be the last of it, Rose. People talk, that’s all, no one will remember by tomorrow.” 

“I don’t like how fast information spreads,” She said uneasily, checking over her shoulder again as they strolled away from the town centre. 

“What’s there to worry about?”

“It’s not-“ She broke herself off. Safe, she wanted to say. But he was only human, and didn’t understand the danger he was in just by existing. If word could get around so quickly about such a small incident, who knows how fast he could be found out if something bigger happened. She chewed on her lip anxiously, scanning the fields for any suspicious figures ready to ambush them. There was only a crooked looking scarecrow, though. 

“Are you alright?” John asked, having apparently noticed her shifty mood for once. 

“Great,” She smiled up at him, hoping to distract him from her mood. 

“If you’re sure?”

“Peachy. Oh, I could go for some peaches right now. Do they have peaches yet?” Rose winced internally, her habit of distancing herself from other humans definitely out of place now.

John laughed at her, looking rather incredulous. 

“I’m sure the grocers sells peaches if you want to go back.”

She looked up at him with the same expression that had been known to convince the Doctor to let her break all sorts of rules of time, resting her chin against his shoulder as she did so. He rolled his eyes lightly and laughed, pulling her back around by the hand to start the short walk back to the greengrocers. 

The school was peaceful in the evenings. Only the distant sound of chattering from the boarding house across the green drawn in through the open window on the gentle breeze. The faint scratching of charcoal pencil on paper filled the air, it was almost like meditating, listening to it. Rose’s neck was growing slightly stiff from holding still so long, but before it grew too uncomfortable, John put down his pencil and moved from the chair to the sofa beside her and offered his journal to her. 

She took it gingerly; it felt almost too personal to look inside. The drawing was unmistakably her, the curve of her lips, her large eyes and soft cheeks. Her hair was loose though, and looked more like it usually did on the TARDIS, and her eyes were rimmed with slightly more black than she was currently wearing. It was almost as if this drawing was a collaboration, drawn the way John currently saw her, and the way the Doctor remembered her at once. It made her throat tight. 

“You’ve made me too pretty,” She said. 

“I don’t think so,” He murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t think I did your beauty enough justice at all.” 

He leant in slowly, his eyes dark and fixed on her lips. She had time to turn away or make an excuse but she couldn’t, absolutely trapped in the gravity of him. His breath was hot on her face, and she realised he’d paused slightly, so she pushed forwards to close the gap, pressing her lips to his. He kissed her like he loved her, like she was the most precious thing he could imagine, his hand cupped gently on the back of her neck. He didn’t pull away quickly as he had the previous time, opening his mouth slightly against hers and kissing her in earnest; soft but insistent. Her chest felt fit to burst. She hadn’t been kissed like this in a long time. Ever, really. For a moment, she believed she could live like this forever, if it meant she could be held by this man like he truly loved her. 

When he finally pulled away she bit her lip and looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping into her cheeks. Something caught her eye in his journal; amongst the messy, looped scrawling on the other page, there was a small doodle that looked startlingly familiar. Round cheeks and large black eyes stared up at her, and she was sure if John had bothered to colour it, its skin would be a sickly shade of yellowish green. 

“What’s this?” She asked, scuppering the romantic mood quite succinctly. 

“Oh, it’s nothing really,” He leaned back against the sofa, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dreams I have sometimes. Fanciful things, complete nonsense of course.” 

“Tell me about them,” Rose said softly. 

“I dream- you’re going to think I’ve gone barmy,” He laughed to himself. “I dream I’m this adventurer, in all of time and space, traveling in this blue box.”

“The TARDIS,” Rose breathed. 

“How did you know that?”

“It says right here,” Rose motioned to another of his doodlings on the previous page, this time a carefully shaded police box captioned ‘TARDIS?’.

“Yes, well. It’s silly really.” 

“I’d like to hear,” She pushed. He looked at her with an odd look in his eyes, then he blinked and it was gone. 

“I dream I’m this man, the Doctor, I call myself. He’s something of a superhero.” She tried to stifle a laugh in her hand and bit the inside of her lip again to hide her grin.

“You were there, in the dreams, when they started. You travelled with me to all these fanciful places, wearing hardly any clothing I might add, I rather think my imagination got away from me having such a beautiful wife,” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “You seemed to disappear later on though. This character I invented, he seemed sadder after that. Just my subconscious playing tricks on me, missing you.” 

She took his hand in hers and held it to her chest, willing her eyes to stop burning. 

“I’m sorry I was away for so long,” She said, her voice only wobbling a little. 

“It’s not your fault you couldn’t join me here sooner. Rose they’re only stories. Dreams and nothing more.” She nodded her head, and went back to flipping through the journal to avoid looking at him. 

Some of the creatures and places she recognised while others she had no memory of. Slightly misshapen daleks covered an entire page; a whole fleet spreading throughout the skies of London. An Ood that looked almost jellyfish-like was covered in annotations with question marks. She spotted what looked like the globe theatre being struck by lightning, creatures that looked like pigs, and a woman in her wedding dress. It hit her with dizzying force just how much she’d missed out on with him.

“I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day,” John said lightly. “You can read through the stories if you’d like, though you may struggle with my chicken scratch.” 

“It’s okay, maybe you can tell me the stories yourself sometime,” Rose said. She knew he never would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so stubborn about being written, but it ended up being a reasonably long one so I'm not too mad, even if I'm not overly keen on it. I'm having lots of fun making both John and Rose do things that are reminiscent of the doctor
> 
> from what I can work out britain did have both peaches and newspapers in 1913, you have no idea how much of a pain that was to work out and no one would even have noticed/cared if it was wrong lmao 
> 
> as always comments are extremely appreciated and really help to motivate continuing writing the story! it gets a bit more plotty from here on out~


	6. Chapter 6

“It’s weird hearing him talk like that, isn’t it?” Rose asked. “All posh and, I dunno, sane. I can’t get used to it.” It wasn’t strictly true she knew; there were moments she almost forgot this wasn’t her normal, but others where she felt like this was all so strange she was losing her mind. 

“Tell me about it. As if having him wake up human wasn’t weird enough, then he started spewing nonsense in the Queen’s English!” 

“He did Scottish for a full day once,” Rose laughed, “almost got us beheaded by Queen Victoria when he got distracted and forgot to keep it up.”

“I’m surprised it took him that long.”

“Oh trust me I was too, it was the appearance of a werewolf that threw him,” They both dissolved into giggles. 

“Do you ever think about how barmy we must sound to outsiders?” Martha asked, bringing her glass to her lips and looking up to the sky. “If I met my past self and tried to tell her any of this I wouldn’t believe a word out of my mouth.”

Rose picked up her own cup, her breath fogging the glass as she took a sip. They were sat outside at the local pub, wrapped up tight against the chilly evening air. The stars twinkled down, watching over them. It was a bizarre sort of normalcy, to be sitting outside a pub drinking with a friend while in 1913 and on the run with a brainwashed alien. She was glad Martha was here with her, though. She didn’t feel quite so alone, having someone with her who understood. 

“It took a Slitheen attacking my mum to get ‘er to believe me,” She replied, a faint smile on her lips but eyes distant at the memory. 

“Slitheen?”

“Great big green aliens with these big bug eyes and massive cheeks. Had these goofy looking long arms and huge claws. My ex exploded one with vinegar. Mum complained for weeks about getting the smell of it out of her hair,” She laughed. “From the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius.” 

“Raxi- “

“Raxacoricofallapatorius,” She repeated, slower this time. “You’ll never guess its sister planet.”

“What is it?”

“Clom.”

“No.”

“Yep!” They both broke into peels of laughter. 

“What are you two giggling about?” John’s voice appeared as he walked over, carefully balancing three glasses of beer in his hands. Rose helped him put them down without spilling any and set aside their empties. John slipped into the seat next to her, pressing his leg warmly against hers. 

“Oh, nothing really,” She said, taking a sip from the new glass and locking twinkling eyes with Martha over the rim. 

“Girl stuff,” Martha said. 

“I rather suspect you’re ganging up on me,” John protested, and both girls laughed again. 

“Nothin’ of the sort,” Rose said, and patted his forearm on the table reassuringly. He covered her hand with his and laced their fingers together. Martha saw this and raised an eyebrow at Rose, who shot her back a look which clearly said shut up. 

“Will you be coming to the village dance, Martha?” John asked. 

“I wouldn’t have thought so,” Martha said, setting her glass down and shaking her head, “who’d want to go with me?”

“Nonsense! You could accompany us. That is of course, you wouldn’t mind would you dear?” He turned to Rose. 

“Of course not, but when were you planning on telling me you were taking me to a dance?” She laughed. 

“Oh, had I not? It must’ve slipped my mind, I do apologise. I assumed you’d seen the fliers, and of course I presumed we’d-“

“It’s fine, John,” She said, trying not to laugh at his forgetful bumbling. She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. “A dance sounds lovely, and of course I’d love to have Martha along.”

“Right, well. That settles that then,” He said decisively, nodding to himself as if he’d just overcome a huge hurdle. 

“Can you actually dance?” She asked, remembering their last disastrous attempt at a waltz. She didn’t think swing would quite cut it this time. 

“Oh, I uh- I don’t know.” 

Rose glanced up at Martha and shook her head subtly. Martha hid her laugh in her glass. 

“I’m sure we’ll muddle it out,” Rose said and grinned up at him. John looked at her with such fondness in his eyes she had to look away, instead tilting her head back to look at the stars. 

“Lovely clear night tonight,” He commented softly, following her gaze. 

It was then that she noticed it, a faint green flash lighting up the sky for a split second. 

“What was that?” She said, scanning the sky for the sign of anything amiss. 

“What was what?” John asked, looking at her rather than the stars. 

“There was something- there, look!” 

A fireball, glowing bright green was tearing across the sky. Far larger and closer than any shooting star she’d ever seen. Martha raised out of her seat slightly to watch it, a stricken look on her face. When the fireball had vanished they exchanged terrified glances. 

“Where was that, that it came down?” Rose asked, scanning the horizon frantically.

“Over by Cooper’s field,” Martha said, trying to keep the tension out of her voice. 

“It wasn’t really,” John said mildly. “Just a meteorite, more commonly known as a shooting star. A piece of debris hitting the atmosphere and burning up. They always look close but they never are.” He seemed satisfied with his explanation and went back to his drink, completely unaware of the sudden growing tension between the two women. 

“We need to-“ Rose said, starting to get out of her chair, but Martha stopped her. 

“No, you stay here with John. Wouldn’t want to ruin your evening,” She gave Rose a very pointed look. “I’m going to turn in though, I think.” 

“Oh, we’ll walk you home,” John said, sounding faintly surprised. 

“No! It’s okay, I could do with the peace. Long day, you know?” Martha said hurriedly. 

It took all of Rose’s self control not to dash after her. ‘Rose wander-off Tyler’ The Doctor had once called her, somewhere between fond and irritated while sonicking some heavy manacles she’d landed herself in, while she’d rolled her eyes and tried to explain it hadn’t been her fault. But she needed to stick by John’s side, she knew. The Doctor could handle himself when she wandered off, but John was completely clueless. Martha was more than competent, Rose knew. She’d be fine by herself. 

She tapped her foot under the table, glancing back to the point on the horizon she’d seen the fireball go down as Martha hurried off. It wasn’t quite a jog, but she wasn’t hanging around. John seemed to pick up on Rose’s agitation and eyed her carefully. 

“So tell me more about this dance,” Rose said brightly, trying to distract him. 

“Well it’s the eve after tomorrow, are you certain I didn’t mention it? I was sure I did.” 

“Nope, first I’ve heard of it, scatterbrain,” She said, and nudged his shoulder affectionately. 

“That’s me, I suppose,” He said, and smiled, though she could tell he was racking his brains to try and remember if he’d said anything. It was an odd expression on him, not one often worn by the Doctor, but one that was more familiar to John’s face. She realised she was thinking of them as different people more now; they shared the same face, but John was so un-Doctorish at times that she could almost forget. 

Almost. 

She glanced skyward again, knee still bouncing, and bit her lip. She tried to work out the trajectory the fireball had taken. It had looked close, really close. It definitely wasn’t a meteor, she’d seen meteor showers before; the Doctor had once shown her the biggest meteor shower in the galaxy, fireballs streaking through the night sky so frequently and with such intensity it was like watching fireworks. But even those had seemed distant. This had seemed close. Scarily close. And she’d never seen a shooting star glow green either. That had looked far more like a ship of some sort burning through the atmosphere to her. 

“Are you feeling quite alright, Rose?” He John asked, pulling her out of her thoughts, and she realised he’d been watching her for a while. 

“Molto bene,” She smiled. “Actually, I think I’m quite tired too. We should head back to the school.” 

“Oh, if you’re sure?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“At least finish your drink,” He protested. Without hesitation she grabbed the half full glass and downed it in three large gulps. 

“Ready? Let’s go,” She said, wiping her mouth and ignoring the way he was staring up at her in marvel. 

Not the most ladylike thing she’d done since she’d got here, she realised belatedly, but she wanted to get John to safety, and fast. Preferably she’d want to take him to the TARDIS, but that was out, so their rooms at the school would have to do. The second he was on his feet she was looping her arm through his and practically propelling him forwards in the direction of the school. 

She was jumpy the whole way back. She tried to conceal it so as not to alert John to anything amiss, but her head snapped up at the sound of every twig snapping or leaves rustling. 

When they finally reached their room Rose shut the door and locked it tight behind them, then strode over to the windows and made sure they were locked too before shutting the curtains. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, my love?” John’s voice behind her made her startle slightly, which only made him look more concerned. 

“Yes, I just…” She trailed off. His brows knit together. 

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you, Rose? Has something happened?”

She deflated slightly, and did the only thing she could think of: stepped into his arms. 

“I’m alright,” She said, slightly muffled by his chest. His hand came up to stroke her hair and she relaxed into his warm embrace, the feel of his single heart beat drumming against her cheek. “I’m just tired and being silly, it’s a new place, y’know?”

“You promise you’d tell me if anything was wrong?”

Her breath caught in her throat and she found herself unable to answer, so she settled for nodding, guilt burning in her chest at the lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was very dialogue heavy but was SO much easier to write than last chapter so I'm not complaining lmao 
> 
> we're starting to get properly plotty now!! 
> 
> did anyone else tune in for the stolen earth/journeys end watch party on twitter with the cast? freema bigging up the 10xrose content has absolutely fuelled my martha content tbh and david tennant being late to the stream then abandoning it to make dinner and fold laundry was even more chaotic than I expected of him lmfao 
> 
> anyway as usual comments are greatly appreciated!! <3


	7. Chapter 7

Rose lay awake that night, unable to even contemplate sleep. She watched John’s peaceful face until she was absolutely certain he was asleep, then quietly snuck out of bed. She slipped her shoes on and pulled her coat over her long nightgown, and crept out of the room, locking the door behind her. Her footsteps sounded entirely too loud on the hardwood floor, and she winced every time it creaked underfoot. 

When she reached Martha’s door she knocked softly. There was no answer, so she pushed it open quietly as she could. It was unlocked, but the room beyond was empty; Martha’s shoes and coat still missing. She closed the door again and stood chewing her lip for a minute, trying to work out what to do next. There was a creak behind her and she whipped around, heart hammering in her chest. At the end of the corridor was a dark figure, tall and slender, and for a split second she almost mistook him for the Doctor. But he wasn’t quite the right build, his hair was flatter, and he was wearing a school uniform. 

“Who’s there?” She called. 

The figure stepped into the candle light, an oddly blank expression on his face. She squinted in the dark, trying to recognise him. 

“Baines, isn’t it? You try’na scare me half to death?”

“Sorry miss,” He said evenly. 

“What’re you doin’ up?” She said, still trying to catch her breath. 

“Couldn’t sleep, miss. Sorry miss.” 

“An’ I should think so too. Go on, back to bed with you, or I’ll tell the headmaster,” She shooed him away. He looked at her for a moment longer, head slightly cocked, before turning and marching away. 

She hesitated, listening to make sure he was gone before she turned to leave as well, then yelped when she came face to face with Martha. 

“Blimey I feel like I’m in a horror movie tonight, the amount of jump scares I’ve ‘ad,” Rose clutched at her chest. Martha didn’t laugh. 

“What happened?” 

“Oh, nothing. Just got spooked by one of the students still up. Sent him off to bed, it’s fine. Did you find the crash site?” She asked. Martha shushed her and jerked her head at the door. She led them both inside and shut the door quietly behind them. Rose busied herself lighting the gas lamps while Martha shucked off her coat. 

“What did you find?”

“Nothing,” Martha said, rather dejectedly. 

“What d’you mean, nothing? You mean you didn’t find it?”

“No, I mean I found nothing. The ship definitely came down in Cooper’s fields, but when I went up there there was absolutely nothing there. An’ it’s all open up there, no way I could’ve missed anything unless it was tiny, but it didn’t look tiny when it was coming down, did it?”

“Nah. Could it have taken off again?”

Martha shook her head. “I would’ve seen it.”

Rose rubbed at her forehead and plopped down onto the sofa. “So what do we do now then? Do we open the watch?”

Martha joined her on the sofa, looking just as weary as Rose felt. “It has to be him to open it, and besides he told me only to do so if I was absolutely certain there was no other option. They might not be able to track him down with him being human, he’s safer like this for now.”

“So we wait?”

“’S all we can do.”

Rose puffed out her cheeks, racking her brain. “Do you know what they look like?”

“Didn’t get a good look, could be anything. All I know is they’re a family. I don’t even know if they’re likely to stick together as a pack or split up. I just wish I knew something.” 

“The Doctor didn’t think it’d be important to tell you?”

“We were in a bit of a rush, there wasn’t time,” She shrugged, looking slightly bitter at the memory. “They were tracking us through the time vortex, we had to shake them.”

“Feels like we’re sitting ducks, just doin’ nothing,” Rose said, wrapping her arms about herself. Martha hummed her agreement. 

Rose didn’t stay much longer, not wanting to leave John on his own. It felt odd sneaking back into bed with him, like she was slipping back into this pocket of normalcy that by all rights shouldn’t exist. He was lying on his stomach, face pressed into the pillows, and despite her best attempts, her movements woke him. 

“Y’lright?” He mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

“Yeah,” She whispered, “just needed the loo. Go back to sleep.” 

He hummed and snaked an arm around her, pulling her into his warmth. For once she didn’t feel she was playing a part when she pressed a soft kiss to his temple before settling down to sleep. 

Their breakfast was interrupted the next morning by a soft knock on the door. John didn’t seem surprised by this and leapt up to answer it. She caught a glimpse of a short boy with neatly combed blonde hair; Tim Latimer, John called him. He looked small for his age, and Rose realised he was the boy John had told her about; the one bullied by his classmates. 

He looked somewhat terrified, and Rose’s heart broke for him at the thought of the torment he must be put through to look so scared. But there was something about his body language that caught her eye. He kept peering into the room while John was talking, barely listening to him at all, as if he was looking for something. He shifted nervously on his feet, hand resting tentatively inside his pocket. 

“Are you listening to me?” John snapped. 

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” He said quickly, and Rose suspected he was used to apologising. 

“And how’s that essay coming along?”

“Very well, sir.” 

“You’ve taken into account what I said to you? I expect you to be top of the class.” 

“I’ll try my best, sir.”

“Right you are, hurry along then,” John nodded at him a leather bound book from the boy. Tim hesitated for a moment longer, casting one more worried glance past him into the room before hurrying off. 

“That’s Tim Latimer, right? The one you mentioned the other day?” Rose said as the door clicked shut behind him. 

“That’s the one. He came by the other day while you were with the nurse.” He gestured to the book as he set it down on the table

“Something seems off with him,” She said, more to herself than him, eyeing the book suspiciously.

He let out a puff of air as he rejoined her at the table. “He’s always a little odd, I think the other boys sense it too. He’s not normally quite so skittish though, I don’t know what’s got into him lately.” 

He reached for the teapot between them and poured her cup before his own. The warm fragrant steam calmed Rose’s frazzled nerves somewhat. 

“I was thinking we could go into town again today. I need new shoes for the dance and I thought you might like to pick out a new dress.” He looked up at her expectantly, and despite her hesitation to let him out of the safety of their room, she found herself unable to resist. She wasn’t sure she could stand being cooped up all day; she wanted to go out to see if she could sense anything amiss, and his hopeful smile really was rather lovely. 

Always one for dramatics, and a big fan of pathetic fallacies, Rose expected storm clouds to be brewing outside, maybe a thick layer of fog, something proper creepy. But all she got was a pleasant, mild day. She could almost hear the Doctor laughing at her, teasing her for being disgruntled that the weather was too nice. She grabbed John’s hand perhaps a little firmer than she intended. 

He kept up his usual stream of chatter as they walked. Not about his past, never his past. Apparently any incarnation of the man was disinclined to talk about that; but this version also lacked the ability to give her a history lesson that somewhere along the line would morph into a future-lesson. It wasn’t dull though, listening to him tell her about the native wildlife and geography of the little town. His enthusiasm for any topic he chose to ramble about enough to make her hang onto his every word. 

Or, under usual circumstances it was. Under usual circumstances he didn’t feel like a giant target stood next to her, open and defenceless and completely ignorant to the fact. Under usual circumstances she was ready to face down danger with him at the drop of a hat, and being by his side felt like the safest place in the universe. She regretted letting him talk her into this. She felt exposed, eyes scanning their surroundings constantly. It would help if she just knew what she was looking for. 

He suggested dropping her at the tailors to pick out a dress while he went to the shoe shop, but she refused, claiming she didn’t trust his taste in shoes, and that she’d need a second opinion on her dress. He didn’t pick up on the obvious contradiction, or did, but saw it as her excuse to enjoy more of his company. Which wasn’t totally wrong; she was enjoying listening to him talk. It was the most like him he got, which meant listening made her feel the most like her.

John picked out a lovely pair of dress shoes so utterly unlike the Doctor that she had to suppress a giggle at the thought of him wearing them. She wondered if she could manage to sneak her phone out long enough to get a picture of him in them before the dance so she could tease the Doctor mercilessly later. But it was the sight of him peering at a pair of running shoes that really made her lose it. They were an ugly beige and brown combo, but there was no mistaking the signature capped toes or round logo on the side. He’d managed to find a bloody pair of converse chucks. 

“No,” She said firmly, laughter in her voice. 

“What’s wrong with them?” He said indignantly. 

“You’re not wearing running shoes to the dance!”

“Wasn’t gonna wear them to the dance,” He grumbled, but cracked a smile at her mirth. 

The tailors was fun. Rose always loved playing dress up, and browsing the TARDIS’ wardrobe was one of her favourite calming activities. She didn’t even have to worry about accidentally getting the wrong decade when browsing here, and she admired the delicate beading and intricate lace on the dresses. John hung back, watching her with a fond smile, occasionally commenting when she looked up for his opinion. It was easy for the threat of an impending alien attack to feel odd and distant when she allowed herself to get swept up in this fantasy life like this, though she kept a close eye on everyone who entered the shop and listened hard for any sounds of disturbance outside. 

She was a little more at ease when they left the shop, john clutching the bags in one hand, and her arm looped through his. Just a quick stop at the grocers and then they could head back. 

The grocer seemed less friendly and talkative than the last time they had visited. He was stood stiffly, like he was uncomfortable in his own store. When the little bell above the door tinkled his head snapped to it, and he sniffed loudly, like he was smelling the air. 

“My, not coming down with a cold are you, mister Clarke?” John said, placing his usual paper by the till to fish for his wallet. 

“Must be,” Mr Clarke said in a flat voice. 

“The day of the dance! What a pity, I hope you’ll feel better on the morrow.” 

“The dance, yes. That’ll be a penny, sir.” He took the money from John with an oddly blank expression and carefully deliberate movements, and watched them leave with his head slightly cocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's such a challenge to write any kind of hints at the family when they’re all so obvious bc everyone already knows the ep and they’re told from rose's perspective so anything she notices would effectively put a halt to the story lmao so we're just going with shes expecting actual aliens not humans to cut myself some slack 
> 
> chucks were actually first brought out in 1917 (4 years after this story is set) but the brand converse were around since 1908 so I'm taking creative licence on that one. That part was literally just inspired by me looking at other 1910s shoes and a pair of chucks coming up and it made me laugh 
> 
> as always comments are greatly appreciated!!


	8. Chapter 8

Rose spent the rest of the day wrestling with herself whether or not they should go to the dance or not. She could always claim she felt unwell, but it might be more valuable to mingle to try and find out if any of the townsfolk had seen anything. 

In the end, the dance won out. She decided she’d much rather know what was going on than hide away and wait to be found. The way his eyes grew soft and warm when he caught her holding her new dress up to herself in front of the mirror may have helped her along to that decision somewhat. 

She was getting the hang of the simple up-do she pinned her hair into every morning now, and spent extra time getting it just right this time, sliding a delicate beaded hair pin in when she was finished. She applied more makeup than she usually would here, and she was sure it didn’t quite match the era, but it accentuated her eyes and added colour to her cheeks and she felt rather pretty. 

John was still in the bathroom when she finished, and she took a moment to admire her dress. It was a beautiful deep blue; she tended towards lighter blue usually, liking how it contrasted with her skin, but she’d spotted this dress tucked away in the corner of the shop and the colour had felt so like home that she couldn’t resist. It was contrasted with delicate silver lace and pearlescent beading, and shawl-like sleeves that fluttered about her shoulders. 

She really didn’t have a grasp of money in Edwardian times, but she assumed it was far too expensive for a teacher to afford. But the Doctor never cared for money, so she doubted John much did - and the TARDIS had probably supplied him with far more than he’d need for their length of stay here, so she hadn’t questioned it. 

She heard John shuffle into the room behind her as she tugged the dress over her shoulders and locked eyes with him in the mirror. His jaw went slightly slack, and his eyes were hooded as they roamed her body, traveling the expanse of her exposed back before coming back to rest on her face. 

“You look beautiful,” He breathed, voice low. 

Rose bit her lip to conceal her smile and looked down to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “Can you do me up?”

His hands were gentle on her back, fingers grazing her exposed skin every now and then as he worked the fiddly buttons up the back of the dress. She watched him in the mirror while he worked. He had a slight crease in between his brows, and it wasn’t much of a stretch of the imagination to picture him with a sonic screwdriver caught between his teeth. 

When he was finished with the final button his hands lingered, traveling down to rest on her waist to pull her close to him. He ducked his head down to drop a feather light kiss on the juncture between her shoulder and neck. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her hands came up to cover his for a moment, before she twisted in his arms to face him, palms flat on his chest. 

His lips were so achingly tender against hers, a warm, soft press that curled through her belly up into her lungs and made blossoms flower there. For a moment, aliens and monsters and universes that needed saving didn’t exist, and Rose was simply wrapped in a man who loved her. 

She might sooner have climbed a mountain than pulled away from him, but she forced herself to anyway, resting her forehead against his, the shared breath between them warm and heavy.

“We’ll be late,” She said, and it came out as a whisper. 

“Who cares?” He murmured, and caught her lips again. 

She smiled into the kiss then pushed on his chest, chasing after the kiss with her lips regardless. He fixed her with a raised eyebrow and she laughed, shaking her head. 

“Come on,” She said, reaching for her purse with one hand and taking the arm he offered her with the other. “Martha will be waiting.”

“I’m sure Miss Jones would understand,” He said lightly, but she glared at him and he laughed. 

Martha looked gorgeous in her long dark dress; simpler than Rose’s but just as pretty. She took John’s other arm and locked eyes with Rose. They had a brief conversation through expressions alone that could be translated somewhere along the lines of:  
See any aliens on the rampage?  
No, you?  
Nope. 

The walk to the village hall was short, but the evening air nipping at Rose’s exposed arms was enough to make her wonder what the etiquette surrounding borrowing men’s jackets was in 1913. Surely walking home from a dance with your husband wearing his jacket wouldn’t be too scandalous. She tried not to linger too long on the warm fuzzy feeling assigning the word husband to John made her feel. 

The town hall was bustling with women in pretty dresses and men in woollen suits. Red white and blue bunting was draped over the walls, and a live band played at the front. No one was dancing yet, but the atmosphere was lovely, the air full of laughter and chattering. 

“Would you ladies care for a drink?” John asked as they took their seats at a free table. 

“That’d be lovely, thanks,” Rose said, squeezing his hand quickly. She watched him weave his way through the crowd towards the drinks table fondly. 

“So how’s married life going?” Martha teased, watching her watch him. 

Rose sighed, “He’s so…him, you know? I don’t know if it makes it easier or harder to be honest.” 

“Well you definitely bring it out in him. He was a lot… colder before you arrived.” Before Rose could ponder on that statement too long Martha switched the topic to the elephant in the room. 

“You’ve not seen anything suspicious then?”

“No,” Rose deflated. “I’m starting to think maybe John was right, it was just a meteor.”

“Let’s hope so,” Martha said skeptically. “It’s the not knowing that’s driving me mad. The Doctor never has no clue, and everything’s so blimming fast when he’s around.” 

“Stuck on the slow path,” Rose muttered bitterly. Martha hummed in agreement. 

Rose scanned the room. She’d long since learned people were a much more precious resource than you’d expect. Little old ladies twitching at curtains. She didn’t spot anyone who looked particularly out of place or unsettled, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t find any. 

“We should mingle, talk to people, see if anyone’s seen anything,” She said, voice low. 

“Good idea, you go-“

“The inventor of the banana daiquiri was a genius,” John declared, cutting Martha off and dumping three drinks on the table. 

Rose shot Martha an unimpressed look. 

“Him?” She sniggered. 

“I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” A voice came from the front of the hall, “please take your partners for a waltz!” 

Rose shot Martha a quick glance, and she nodded with a small grin, “Go on, I’ll mingle.”

John led her to the dance floor, then stepped closer to her, placing his hand on her upper back. He didn’t look like he was concentrating on dancing at all, his focus completely on her in that way that made her spine tingle. As the music swelled she braced herself for him to step on her foot, but it didn’t come. Instead he guided her gracefully - expertly - around the room, perfectly in time. 

“Where did you learn to dance?” She laughed incredulously, thinking back to his last body’s stubborn resistance to gracefulness, despite his insistence he knew how. 

“Gallifrey.” 

She sucked in a breath. 

“I think that’s…in Ireland. Yes,” He said. 

She schooled her features carefully back into a smile, noting the slightly distant look behind his eyes as his brain worked to fill in the gap in his knowledge. 

“Sorry!” She said as they bumped into some nearby dancers. 

“Are you glad you came here?” John said suddenly, a hint of worry colouring his voice, and she knew he’d noticed her acting off the last few days. 

“I’m glad to be with you,” She said honestly. His face broke into a smile that felt like basking in the first summer sun of the year and his grip on her tightened just slightly. 

Martha watched John and Rose dancing. They looked utterly infatuated with each other, and she couldn’t blame either one. Even like this, they fit together so well she couldn’t even find it in her to feel jealous. A little lonely, perhaps, but not jealous. They were so wrapped up in each other she was sure a full scale alien invasion could take place right there in the town hall and they wouldn’t notice. She shook her head fondly, if they were too busy that left her to do all the work, not that she minded. It was just nice to see the Doctor happy. He’d smiled and laughed with her, sure, but there was always that sadness deep beneath the surface. With Rose that seemed to dissipate, and she couldn’t neglect him that. 

She set to work mingling amongst the townsfolk, keeping a sharp ear out for snatches of conversation that seemed misplaced. She was sure her mother would be better than her at this; she’d never been much one for listening for gossip. It was somewhat frustrating working this way, so used to taking a more proactive approach. After having made her way round almost the whole hall without so much as a whisper out of place, she sighed in defeat. If anyone had seen anything odd they apparently weren’t openly talking about it at the village dance. 

She retreated to the drinks table for some juice, and spotted Jenny hovering near the edge. Jenny was one of the maids at the school, but Martha had got to know her well in her first few months there, and was quite fond of her. 

“Jenny! I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” She said. Jenny’s head swivelled to her, her eyes wide and slightly glazed. Martha’s brow furrowed slightly. She normally had such a kind and friendly face, this blank expression didn’t suit her at all. 

“Wouldn’t miss it. So many people,” She said in a smooth voice. 

“You here alone?”

“Haven’t found the one I’m looking for,” She turned her face back to the crowd and sniffed loudly. 

“Coming down with a cold?” 

“Must be. I might need to see a doctor.” 

Martha’s blood ran cold. It couldn’t be- But Jenny’s gaze was trained on John and Rose, still with eyes only for each other. 

“Excuse me,” Martha said with a tight smile. She wasn’t sure Jenny even noticed her leave.

She weaved her way stiffly through the crowd, restraining herself from leaping over tables and chairs to reach them. She ducked around dancers as subtly as she could and sidled up to the pair. 

“We need to go,” She said, voice tight and urgent. 

“What are you talking about?” John asked somewhat indignantly, their dance coming to an abrupt halt. 

Martha locked burning eyes with Rose, and saw the colour drain from her face. 

“John, let’s go,” She said.

“But-“ 

She took his hand firmly and started tugging him towards the door. Suddenly there was a commotion from outside, and what sounded hauntingly like a laser weapon being fired. The trio stopped in their tracks, Rose grabbing for John. 

“Out the back,” She murmured, but at that moment three figures burst into the hall, the first knocking over the coat stand and sending it clattering to the floor. The band stopped playing abruptly, panicked murmurings spreading throughout the hall. 

“There will be silence! All of you!” It was Mr Clarke, from the village grocers. And behind him was Baines, from the school, and a young girl Martha recognised as Lucy Cartwright, a red balloon clutched tightly in her fist by a string. 

They stopped dead in their tracks, Rose and Martha positioning themselves subtly in front of John. Living scarecrows - the ones normally innocently watching over the nearby fields - burst into the room. Their limbs twisted and stiff as they staggered in, their faces in awful, roughly sewn grimaces. There were scattered screams throughout the room and scattered to the back of the room, trying to put as much space between themselves and whatever these scarecrow things were. 

“Mister Clarke, what’s going on?” The mayor stepped forwards. 

Baines turned towards him, a sick, blank smile on his face, and shot him. The device was definitely alien, emitting a nauseating green pulse of energy that vaporised the man with a haunting shriek. Rose backed up, clutching at John behind her. He tried to move her so he was in front but she refused to budge. 

“We asked for silence!” Baines yelled at the screaming townspeople, and a terrified hush fell over the room. “Now then, we have a few questions for Mister Smith.” He said, turning to him primly. 

“No, better than that. He’s the Doctor. I heard him talking, he said he’s from Gallifrey,” Jenny said, stepping around them to join the others at the front. 

“Oh, you took human form,” Baines crooned, grinning at John. 

“Of course I'm human. I was born human, as were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mister Clark. What is going on? This is madness,” He stuttered, his grip tightening on Rose’s arm as he tried in vain to move her out of danger again. 

“Oooh, and a human brain, too. Simple, thick and dull,” Baines mocked. 

“But he's no good like this,” Jenny complained. 

“We need a Time Lord,” Mr Clarke said, head snapping angrily to Baines. 

“Easily done,” Baines said. He stepped forwards and raised the ray gun to point at John’s head. “Change back.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about!” John said frantically.  
“Change back!”

“I- I can’t, I don’t know what you’re-“ 

Clarke stepped forwards and grabbed Rose roughly, tugging her backwards with an arm around her throat, ray gun pressed to her head. 

“Let me go!” Rose yelled, struggling against her grip. 

“No don’t hurt her! Please-“

“Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge,” Baines said. 

“He arrived with the other one,” Clarke said, gesturing to Martha. Jenny grabbed her too, the cold press of alien metal to her forehead making her stomach churn. 

“Doesn’t this scare you enough to make you change back?” Baines said, inhuman smile still warping his young face. “Have you enjoyed it, Doctor, being human? Has it taught you wonderful things? Are you better, richer, wiser? Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Wife or nurse? Your friend or your lover? Your choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge chunk of dialogue at the end there directly lifted from the script obviously, the rest of this will vaguely follow the episode storyline but not too closely, and hopefully no big chunks of lifted dialogue after this, but really that’s such a good scene I wouldnt stand a chance of writing it better myself lmao 
> 
> daiquiris did exist at this point, banana ones did not irl but in doctor who canon technically they do lmao, also I absolutely couldnt resist putting rose in a tardis blue dress tbh, even if after an hour of googling I still have no idea if it should be laced or buttoned. we're in the doctor who fics for the historical accuracy, obviously
> 
> anyway we absolutely stan martha in these eps, this'll probably be her only little bit of pov in this fic bc frankly rose and john are way too gooey to notice anything happening at this point
> 
> I really appreciate comments <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 updates in 2 days bc I've literally written like 6k these past two days I am on a roll and No One Can Stop Me

Something in the atmosphere shifted, the air felt electric, buzzing against Rose’s skin. The Family’s heads all snapped towards the source. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough for Martha to twist out of Jenny’s grip, snatching the ray gun from her hand and spinning them so she was a shield as Martha pointed the gun at Baines. 

Unseen at the back of the hall, Latimer slipped a fob watch back in his pocket. 

“All right! One move and I shoot,” Martha shouted. 

“Oh she’s good,” Rose laughed, turning to catch John’s eye, but he just looked horrified. 

“The nurse is full of fire,” Baines said, not sounding bothered in the least by this sudden turn of events. 

“And you can shut up,” Martha said menacingly. 

“Careful, Son of Mine. This is all for you so you can live forever,” Jenny said, voice even. 

“I’ll shoot you down,” Baines threatened cool nonchalance slipping as he glared at Martha. 

Martha fired the gun at the ceiling, sending dust and debris smashing to the floor between them then lowered it back to point at him.

“Try it,” She said, “we’ll die together.” 

“Would you really pull the trigger? Looks too scared.” He taunted, taking a step towards her. She adjusted her grip on Jenny threateningly.

“Scared and holding a gun’s a good combination. Do you want to risk it?”

To Rose’s surprise, the Family paused, and then all lowered their guns. Clarke released her and she darted back to John’s side. He snatched out an arm to curl protectively around her waist. 

“Doctor, get everyone out. There’s a door at the side, it’s over there,” Martha instructed. John didn’t respond. 

“John, she means you,” Rose prompted, a hint of urgency in her voice. “Come on.” 

He clearly didn’t want to leave Martha in danger, but moved when Rose tugged at him. 

“You heard her, everyone out the side door!” Rose shouted. There was a flurry of movement as everyone remembered themselves and rushed for the door. She hesitated, looking over her shoulder to Martha, but she didn’t look back, eyes trained on the Family and gun still up. Rose grabbed John’s hand and pulled him out the door. 

“We’re not just going to leave her there, are we?” John cried. 

“She’s got it under control. Mister Hicks! Warn the village. Get everyone out, far away from here as you can get them. Latimer!” She cried, spotting the boy for the first time, “get back to the school. Tell the headmaster to evacuate.”

“Yes, Miss Tyler,” He said, and took off running. 

Martha skidded out of the hall and almost crashed into them. 

“What are you doing standing about let’s go,” She yelled, and took off running, John and Rose hot on her heels. 

They burst into the school and John dove for the bell usually used to signal the end of classes. 

“Evacuate!” He bellowed. “Everybody up, the town’s evacuating!” 

“Stay with him, I’m going to find the watch,” Rose said, rounding to Martha. 

“Go.” She nodded.

“Rose, where are you-“ John called after her as she sprinted up the stairs, but she didn’t turn back. 

She skidded into their room and dove for the mantlepiece, but where there was once a fob watch, there was now only empty space. Her heart sank. It had to be here, it had been just there, only days ago. She yanked the books off the mantle, sending nicknacks crashing to the floor carelessly, but found nothing. Perhaps he’d moved it, she thought wildly, and rounded on the desks, sending papers flying as she scrabbled around for the stupid timepiece. 

Something caught her eye, a line in an essay as she pushed it aside. It shouldn’t have leapt out to her, not in the uncoordinated loopy penmanship, but it caught her eye all the same. 

“It is the presence of the metaphorical Bad Wolf that drives the story-“ 

It couldn’t be. 

She froze, hear heart in her throat, and read it again. And again. Pulling the paper to her face to make absolutely sure she wasn’t seeing the words wrong. 

Bad Wolf. 

Her key back to the Doctor. 

There was no name on the essay so she dropped to her knees, frantically searching the carelessly discarded papers for the top sheet of the essay, and finally found the one that matched the handwriting. 

Tim Latimer. 

Tim Latimer. 

He’d called her Miss Tyler, she realised entirely too late. 

She fled the room, jumping down three stairs at a time. John and Martha were still in the entrance hall shepherding the boys out and barking instructions. 

“Where’s Tim Latimer?” Rose yelled, practically barrelling into them. 

“Latimer? Uh, I’m not sure. Haven’t seen him since the town hall I don’t think. Rose what’s-“

“The watch,” Martha cut across him. 

“It’s gone, Tim Latimer has it.” 

“You’re sure?”

“We need to find him.” 

“Ladies please, what is going on?” John said, his voice edging on desperate. “Those- those people, what were they talking about? What is it they want with me?”

Rose was overcome with a sudden wash of anguish. She had to tell him, which meant she was about to lose him. 

“I’ll find Tim, you explain,” Martha said, and dashed back up the stairs Rose had come from. 

Rose nodded silently, a thank you not quite making its way out of her throat. She pulled John aside, out of the flow of boys evacuating the school. John looked even more worried now, not just for himself but for Rose. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to bundle him in her arms and never let him go. But she needed the Doctor right now. 

“The man in your dreams. The man you call the Doctor,” She started shakily. 

“Who is he? Why did Baines think he was me?” He asked, tripping over his words in his panic. “Martha- she called me Doctor. Why? Who is he?”

Rose looked at him with sad eyes. “I’m sorry,” She whispered. “I’m sorry, he’s you.” 

John blinked, his mouth twitched slightly. “Rose don’t be- who is he?” 

“They’re not dreams, they’re memories.” 

“No.” 

“John he’s you.”

“No-“ He took a step back, shaking his head as if he could shake her words from him. 

“You know it, don’t you? Your memories from before you came here don’t make sense, do they? They don’t feel as real as here and now because they’re not.” 

“No- no my memories are real. I’d know. I had a childhood I had a- a-“

“You said you learned to dance on Gallifrey, but you didn’t know where that is. It’s because it’s a different planet,” She said softly. “That’s where you’re from.”

“No.”

“The first time we met, what did you say to me?

“I took your hand, and I told you to run,” He whispered. 

“We were running from monsters, John. You remember it.” 

“No, we were running through the fields,” He said, and it sounded like he was pleading with her. “We’d stolen apples from Henrick's tree and we were running-“

“We ran through the department store I worked in, it was 2005. You blew it up. You saved my life from living plastic dummies, and then I saved yours.” 

“So you want me to believe I’m not real?” He asked, voice trembling. 

“You are,” She pleaded, “you’re still him you just don’t-“ she broke off. This was so much harder than she had expected. She’d thought she would simply hand him the watch and the Doctor would be back, she hadn’t been prepared for John’s heart to break in the process. 

“So none of this has been real? When I kissed you was that fake?”

“No,” She said, her eyes burning. 

“You love me, don’t you?” He sounded so afraid. She took his hands in hers and he clutched them like a lifeline. 

“Of course I do, John. I love you no matter what.” 

“And does he love you?” He asked firmly. She bit her quivering lip and looked down. He took a step back, betrayal and anguish written all over his face. 

“You expect me to turn into that? Into someone who can’t love you?”

“You have to,” Her voice was barely above a whisper. His face crumpled. 

“Am I not enough?”

There was an explosion outside. Rose’s head whipped to it and she took an instinctual step closer to John. 

“He’s the only one who can fix this,” She said, tears in her eyes. 

“I can’t find him,” Martha yelled, dashing down the stairs. There was another explosion outside, closer to the school this time. 

“Oh my god they’re bombing the town,” She said, eyes bright with fear. 

“The scarecrows will be here any second,” Rose said, steadying herself. “We need to get out of here.” 

“I know where we can go, come on,” Martha said, following the path the boys had taken out the back of the school. 

Rose took one more look at John, fear still written over his face, then tugged him to follow. No one spoke as they sprinted from the school, their shortness of breath a welcome distraction. They ducked behind a wall just at the edge of the school grounds and peaked around it. Scarecrows swarmed the school, some were dragging boys kicking and screaming to be shown to the young girl with the balloon. When she dismissed them they were tossed aside. They must be looking for Latimer, Rose realised. He’d had a head start though, hopefully he’d got ahead. 

And then she spotted it, guarded by a swarm of scarecrows, was the TARDIS. Baines stood alongside it, smugness radiating from him. 

“Doctor!” He called, Come back, Doctor. Come home. Come and claim your prize.”

“Out you come, Doctor. There's a good boy. Come to the Family.” Clarke shouted. 

“Time to end it now.” Called Jenny.

John had stilled beside Rose, terror in his eyes. 

“You recognise it, don’t you?” She said softly.

“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” He said. He sounded like he was lying to himself more than to her, as if by denying this one fact he could cling to this fragile life before it was torn away from him. 

“You drew it, John. It was in your journal.” 

He looked at her, and her heart broke at the fear she saw there. 

“We need to keep moving,” Martha said. “I know somewhere we can hide.”

They followed her at a brisk jog down a dark road. They could see the fireballs falling on the town now, glowing bright against the inky sky. Rose prayed they were evacuating. Martha led them to a cottage a ways from any other houses. The lights were out and no sound came from within. 

“Hello?” Martha called as she opened the door. No response. “No one home. We should be safe here.”

“Who lives here?” Rose asked, her voice low in the eerie quiet. 

“The Cartwrights,” She said tightly. “That little girl at the school, she's Lucy Cartwright, or she's taken Lucy Cartwright's form. If she came home this afternoon and her parents tried to stop her, well-” She grimaced. 

There was a teapot on the table, two cups next to it. Rose touched the pot, full but stone cold. Martha was right. When she turned, John was staring out the window, watching the fireballs fall to earth. His expression was grim. She took a step towards him, suddenly unsure of herself. 

“I must go to them, before anyone else dies,” He said, not looking at her. 

“You can’t,” Rose said softly. “It’s not even you they want.” 

“Then what use am I?” He growled, rounding on her. Instinctively she took a step back, and he dropped his gaze guiltily. “You’ve known all this time, have I just been a placeholder? The shadow of a man?”

Rose shook her head, eyes pleading but voice too thick to talk. 

“We need the watch. We can’t do anything without it,” Martha said. 

Just then there was a knock at the door, and the three of them jumped. 

“What if it’s them?” John said, fear quickening his voice. 

“I’m not an expert, but I don’t think scarecrows knock,” Martha said. 

Rose crept towards the door, holding a hand up to stop John from following. The window next to the door had a lace curtain over it so no one could see in, but she could make out the figure beyond. It was a child, but not the girl with the balloon. Rose pulled the door open and came face to face with Tim Latimer, shifting nervously on the doorstep. 

“You have it, don’t you?” She said. He nodded and held his hand out to her, palm up. In it sat the fob watch, innocent as day. You couldn’t guess by looking at it that it would cause so much pain, or that it held such a terrifying amount of power. 

“Hold it,” Rose said, offering the watch to John. 

“No.” 

John stood close to the wall, as far away from the watch as he could get. He looked like a wounded animal cowering away from his captors. 

“John, please-“

“Can’t we just give them the watch? They get what they want and they go away, and I can stay,” He said, his voice reedy and desperate. 

“That’s a Time Lord consciousness,” Martha said sadly. “If they get that they’ll live forever. They’ll destroy the universe. The Doctor’s the only one that can stop that.”

“Then why did he hide?” John shouted, voice wavering. 

“He thought it’d be kinder, if he escaped them he wouldn’t have to destroy them.” 

“And that’s the kind of man you want me to become?” He rounded to Rose, tears streaking down his face. “The kind of man so dangerous it’s safer for him not to exist?”

“I’ve seen him,” Tim piped up, voice surprisingly confident for such a young boy that looked so scared. “He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun.”

“Stop it.” 

“He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe.” 

“Stop it! I said stop it.”

“And he's wonderful.”

“We need him,” Rose said softly. “I need him.”  
John’s throat worked wordlessly as his world shattered around him. The house shook as more fireballs rained down from the sky, distant explosions lighting the room like lightning. 

“Could you leave us, please?” Rose said softly. 

Martha took Tim by the hand and led him outside. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, John’s face crumpled. Rose stepped into his arms and held him as he sobbed, her own tears dampening his jacket. 

“I'm John Smith. That's all I want to be. John Smith, with his life, and his job, and his love. Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?”

“He is,” She said. “And that’s why you need to open the watch.” 

He looked at her, eyes glistening in the raining fire, and took the watch from her hand. 

The second his skin touched hers, the watch between their hands, memories flooded into Rose’s mind. Except they weren’t memories, they were flashes from her timeline, a timeline with John. She stood in a white dress, heart full of love and hands full of roses as he kissed her. She sat in a hospital bed, John pressed to her side and holding a delicate bundle like it was the most precious thing in the world. Their baby’s blue eyes blinked up at them and she was sure she’d never felt happiness like it. More children; playing in the garden, walks through the woods, waves crashing against a familiar shore. 

She gasped and pulled away, and when she looked in his eyes she knew he’d seen it too. 

“Did you see it?” He whispered. She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from his. “I want that,” He said, half a sob. 

“I love you,” Rose gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks. “And I’ll love you when you’re him.” 

“You were wrong,” He whispered, “there’s not a version of me in any timeline capable of not loving you.” 

He took her cheek in his hand and kissed her desperately, like a drowning man drinking in air. Her chest ached and her eyes burned at the intensity of it. There was another explosion, and she pulled back, drinking in the sight of him. His eyes were so old and sad, but so full of love, and didn’t leave hers as the watch clicked open. 

A golden shimmering light burst from the device, shooting into John’s skin, and Rose leapt away. It surrounded him, burning like his regeneration, too bright to look at. Fear shot through Rose, she’d only just found him again she couldn’t lose him now, she wasn’t ready, hadn’t committed his face to memory in enough detail. Just as she was about to cry out, to beg him not to change, the light faded quickly as it had come, and the Doctor opened his whiskey brown eyes. 

Her heart stopped as his expression shifted, realisation soaking into him. 

“Rose-“ He whispered brokenly, and she was flying across the room into his arms. He hugged her with his whole body, pulling her off the ground as her sobs turned into laughter, and it felt like coming home. 

“You’re still you,” She murmured into his neck, and pulled herself even tighter to him. 

“You’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man this whole chapter was a Lot to write, this is one of david tennants most iconic performances imo so there was so much of it that was already so perfect I didnt want to change it, I hope I did alright with it though. I am kinda chuffed I managed to sneak in a bad wolf ref ngl 
> 
> There are actually a lot of parallels to journeys end in here that were both intentional and accidental, also there's so many moments in this fic that could be taken as foreshadowing to tentoo that I couldnt resist a cheeky beach reference (having said that I am working on a second fic that while its not technically a sequel to this one in the timeline, its an emotional sequel in my head and doesn't follow the canon journeys end ending, so take the references in this fic how you like tbh)
> 
> fun fact in the original plot of this fic rose was going to be separated from john when he turned back and the doctor was going to think he'd dreamed up rose coming back until he saw her again (at which point I'd get to rewrite That reunion scene sans dalek), which as much as I loved the concept for I much preferred her being with him through it in the end
> 
> hope you guys liked this chapter, one left to go!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally at the end, thanks for sticking with me <3

It was the explosions, so close now that they rattled the china on the table, that finally drew them apart. If it hadn’t been for that they may have stood there entwined until the sun rose, until planets burned and the universe fizzed out. But the china shook and they drew apart.

They didn’t go far, though. The Doctor’s hands clutched at her waist, her elbows, cupped her cheeks, catching the overwhelmed tears that still fell there.

“I thought-” He murmured, eyes darting back and forth between hers.

“What?”

“I thought I dreamed you up,” He said, and gasped a laugh, brushing at her cheek with his thumb again. “But you’re here, how are you here?” He sobered with startling speed.

Rose bit her lip somewhat guiltily. “Rose what did you do?” He asked sternly, though his hands were still soft on her face. She circled his wrist with her fingers, letting the pad of her thumb brush the skin there gently.

“Doctor we have bigger problems right now,” She said, then at his desperate look; “the universe isn’t about to implode, I promise. I’ll explain later.”

He hesitated for a moment longer, before nodding grimly. He stooped to pick up the fob watch she hadn’t even heard him drop, and tossed it in the air, catching it with a wink. Rose bit back a smile. He bounded to the front door, flinging it wide and exclaiming “Martha!” Rose trailed out after him as he scooped her into a brief hug, then ruffled Tim’s hair.

“Stay here, all of you. I mean it. I know I tell you not to wander off and you completely ignore me every time,” He said exasperatedly, Rose exchanged a look with Martha, “but this time I really mean it.” He pointed between them sternly. “No wandering off. I’ll be back.”

And with that he dashed off, leaving Rose suddenly feeling rather shellshocked in his wake.

“You alright?” Martha asked softly, coming to stand by Rose’s shoulder and wincing as more fireballs rained in the distance.

“Yeah,” Rose said, her voice more convincing than her face. She sniffed and wiped the last of the tears away, turning to smile at Martha. Martha gave her a sad smile in return and took her hand.

“D’you fancy a cup of tea?” She asked, jerking her head back towards the kitchen.

“Oh I’d love one,” Rose said emphatically, the tension draining out of her.

“And you, Tim?”

“Oh, uh, yes please. If it wouldn’t be a bother.”

“Course not. Come on, you.”

They sat at the table, air thick with tension. Rose was sadder than she had anticipated feeling. She’d expected the Doctor to immediately fill the hole John Smith left behind, but the Doctor wasn’t here, and there was a cold, empty space next to her that she’d got so used to John existing in. Stupid really; she’d been with him barely a week, but it ached all the same.

Then the fireballs stopped, quiet echoing suddenly across the little village. Martha laughed breathlessly, eyes lighting up.

“He did it,” She said.

An explosion much bigger than the rest boomed. Rose rushed to the window in time to see green flames die down and a plume of smoke mushroom upwards.

“That’s Cooper’s field!” Martha said over her shoulder, “It must have been the ship. They must’ve had it cloaked or something.”

Sod it, Rose thought, and headed for the door.

“He said not to wander off,” Martha reminded.

“You listen to him?” Rose raised an eyebrow. Martha cracked a smile, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Besides, it’s not really wandering off, it’s just… following him.”

“Go on, you go. I’ll stay with Tim,” Martha nodded to the door. At Rose’s puzzled expression she said; “I’ve had plenty of the Doctor recent- well not recently but still, you need this more than I do, right now. Don’t think this means you’re kicking me out of the TARDIS, though,” She laughed.

Rose grinned and raised her pinky in a quick promise, before dashing out of the door. Martha was right, she did need this; a sense of normalcy, however much catching murderous aliens could be considered normal. Her thighs burned from all the running she’d done in the past few hours, and the cold night air whipped at her exposed arms, but she didn’t slow her pace as she ran for Cooper’s field.

The roaring fire licked up the sides of the invisible ship, head radiating right to the edge of the field where Rose clambered over the gate, long skirts clutched in her hand. She could see him silhouetted against the blaze, and it felt bizarre all of a sudden seeing him in John Smith’s clothes rather than his own more fitted suit. The body language was unmistakable though, John Smith was no more. There the Doctor stood, timeless and formidable against the raging fire. For a moment Rose was reminded of just how alien this man really was.

He was chaining the family to each other when she was close enough to see properly, the soot burning her eyes. Where he’d got the manacles from she didn’t know, but she wasn’t surprised.

“Right on cue, miss wander off Tyler,” He called, “thought I told you to stay at the house?”

“If you think I’m going to start listening to you now,” She called back. He nodded in a fair enough kind of way.

The light mood dissipated the moment she met his side, however. She suppressed a shiver as four pairs of eyes stared blankly at her.

“What are you going to do with them?” She asked softly.

“They’re not safe. They want to live forever, I’m going to make sure they spend it trapped,” He said evenly, surveying the Family coolly.

“An’ what about the hosts? Can you save them?” Rose said, eyes fixed on the little girl.

“No. They’ve been in there too long. They’re gone.”

“Have you tried?”

“I can’t save them, Rose.”

“Their families though, don’t they deserve to- to bury them?” She looked up at him. His expression had slipped from calm rage into something else, Rose wasn’t sure what it was, but after a moment he nodded.

“Okay,” He murmured, low enough that only she could hear his admission.

It was a long walk back to the TARDIS with the Family in their chains, but none of them tried to resist; they knew they were beaten. Their blank stares sent uncomfortable shivers down Rose’s spine though, and she kept close to the Doctor, but not quite touching.

“What’s gonna happen to them?” She asked quietly. The Doctor was quiet for a long moment.

“I’ll force the Family out of the host bodies into containment units. Drop them back off on their home planet. They don’t have a ship anymore, no way to travel. They’re the last ones left, no one to help them now,” He said bitterly. “They can live out the rest of their days there, not that that’ll be a long time,”

“Three months, yeah? That’s what Martha told me.”

“Few weeks now.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and neither of them spoke for a long while.

The Doctor didn’t do goodbyes often, but Tim followed Martha to the TARDIS, when it was all done and they were ready to leave. The TARDIS was parked in the field behind the church now, and Rose could see the four fresh graves with their newly engraved headstones. There was a reason they skipped goodbyes.

“Tim, Timothy Timber,” The Doctor called as the pair reached the TARDIS.

“I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. Because I’ve seen the future and I now know what must be done. It’s coming, isn’t it? The biggest war ever.”

“You don't have to fight,” Martha said firmly.  
“I think we do.”

“But you could get hurt.”  
“Well, so could you, travelling around with him, but it's not going to stop you,” Tim smiled. His eyes were wise far beyond his years, Rose realised, and she wondered if they’d been like that before they’d come here.  
“Tim, I'd be honoured if you'd take this,” The Doctor said, offering out a fob watch covered with delicate circular engravings.  
Tim took it gingerly, like it was something precious and not a common household object. “I can't hear anything,” He said, his brows knitting together.

“No, it's just a watch now. But keep it with you, for good luck.”

“Look after yourself,” Rose said, and hugged him, trying to pour her gratitude into that brief moment. Martha hugged him too, and the pair retreated into the TARDIS.

“You’ll like this bit,” The Doctor said, a smile in his voice, then followed them in, punching in the dematerialisation sequence and throwing the lever with gusto.

The ship lurched, the engines wheezing loudly, and Rose’s chest felt so full it might burst. When the shaking was replaced by the familiar feel of drifting through the vortex Rose laughed out loud and leant up on her tiptoes to place a hand on the time rotor, closing her damp eyes for just a moment. When she reopened them, the Doctor was watching her, his expression unreadable and endless.

“Right, I’m going to go change out of this dress,” Martha said, breaking the tension, “and probably take a bath and go to bed. 1913 plumbing left a lot to be desired. I’ll uh- leave you to it.”

“Do you need a hand with your dress?” Rose asked, but Martha was already ducking out of the console room.

“I’ve got it!” She called over her shoulder.

Rose looked back over to the Doctor, who looked slightly out of place all of a sudden.

“Tenner says she ends up taking the kitchen scissors to it,” She said, he snorted. The levity didn’t last long though, and uncomfortable tension fell back on the room. Rose bit her lip, steeling herself. She moved closer, resting her hip against the console to look at him.

“In Tim’s essay,” She said, choosing to dance around the subject just a little longer, “he wrote Bad Wolf.”

“Oh! That was me,” He said, then at her confused expression; “well, not me. Low level telepathic field, he was born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing heightened sensitivity to telepathic wavelengths. I got inside his head. Didn’t mean to of course, wasn’t doing it consciously. But that must’ve been me reaching out to you.”

“So it wasn’t really Bad Wolf this time? It wasn’t-“

“It wasn’t you,” He said softly. She nodded.

“Where is he?” She blurted out finally. “John Smith?”

The Doctor hesitated, and she thought for a moment she’d scared him off, but his voice was soft when he spoke.

“He’s in here. Somewhere.”

“Just a story,” She said with half a sad smile, not quite able to meet his eye.

“I could-” He looked down at the console, hand hovering aimlessly over the controls, “I could change back.”

“To John?”

“To John, or- or to me. A human Doctor. He was me, so- just if you’d want.”

“Why?” She knew why, of course she knew why. But she needed to hear him say it out loud.

“Well I’d… be human. I could grow old with you,” He looked up finally and shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world, “if you’d like.”

“You’d hate it,” She said, smile just ghosting her lips, “it’d drive you mad.”

She was moving closer to him now, so close their chests almost touched. When he spoke it was softer than she’d heard him speak before.

“Not if it was with you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment her chest ached at the possibility. A normal life with the Doctor; a mortgage and carpets and doors. Having kids and growing old together, a home together, perhaps a dog. The life the watch had shown them.

“No,” She said.

“Oh.” He took a step away, but she laughed and followed him, reaching out to grab his hands.

“I don’t mean- Doctor my life is with you. Whatever you you are, but you don’t need to change for me. I’m happy, like this, forever.”

Something flashed in his eyes for a moment, something dark and eternal and painful, but then it was gone, and a slow smile was spreading across his face.

“Rose Tyler,” He said, tasting the words on his tongue.

“God, I missed you,” She said, throat suddenly tight, and he was scooping her into his arms, pulling her tight. Her feet lifted off the ground and she buried her face in his neck. He smelled like Time and happiness and home. She could live like this forever, she was sure. Content as long as his arms were around her.

“I have one more question,” She asked as they broke apart, her voice softer than before. He was still so close she could count each individual freckle on his cheeks, and could see the reflection of the time rotor twinkling in his warm eyes.

“Of course you do,” He said, but he was smiling at her in that way that made her heart swoop. His hands were still on her waist, her hands on his chest. She could feel his double heartbeat thrumming beneath her palms.

“I was John Smith’s wife,” She said, barely above a whisper.

“That’s not a question.”

“Why was I your wife?” She asked, dragging her eyes up from his lips to meet his gaze.

“You know why,” He said, his voice low.

“Tell me,” She said, her heart in her throat.

“Because I love you, Rose Tyler.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before she was surging forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. He responded immediately, pulling her closer, his arms tight around her waist. It was passionate and desperate but hopeful in a way her last kiss with John Smith couldn’t be. But it didn’t matter because it had always been him, and he loved her and she loved him and they were finally together, in the TARDIS, as they should be; _forever_ stretched lazily ahead of them.

end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for sticking with this story. this was my first doctor who fic and first multichap I've actually finished rather than abandoning half way through lmao
> 
> this fic has kept me company through lockdown, and I hope it's provided some entertainment for you. Your comments have really meant the world to me
> 
> <3


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